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6 

1 


f 


FOPiEST   LIFE 


^.tn 


I 


AND 


FOE  EST    TPiEES 


COMPRISING 


WINTER    C  A  M  P  -  T.  I  F  E    AMONG    THE 

LOGGER  S,    AND    W  I  L  D  -  W  O  O  D 

ADVENTURE. 


\maiP. 


I 


R 


WITH 


DESCRIPTIONS    OF   LUMBERING   OPERATIONS  ON 
THE   VARIOUS    RIVERS   OF   MAINE   AND 
NEW    BRUNSWICK. 


BY  JOHN   S.   SPEINGER. 


N  E  W  Y  O  R  K : 

HARPER   &   BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 
6  2    CLIFF    STREET. 


1851. 


Entered,  aecordiufr  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  t!ie  year  one  tliousand 
eight  hundred  and  lii'ly-one,  by 

Haki'er  &  Brothers, 

in  the  Clerk's  Offiee  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District 

of  New  York. 


PREFACE. 


lUl 


ict 


The  writer  of  the  following  pages  was  reared  among  the 
Pine  forests  of  Maine,  and  has  spent  several  of  the  most 
pleasant  years  of  his  life  in  active  participation  in  many  of 
the  scenes  here  delineated. 

The  incidents  he  has  related  are  real,  and  in  no  case  is 
the  truth  sacrificed  to  fancy  or  embellishment. 

AVhen  the  author  commenced  writing,  his  motive  was 
to  indulge  somewhat  in  pleasant  reminiscences  of  the  past, 
and  to  live  over  again  that  portion  of  his  life  which,  in  gen- 
eral, was  so  pleasantly  spent  among  the  wild  mountains, 
forests,  lakes,  and  rivers  of  Maine.  It  was  during  this  ret- 
rospective exercise  with  his  pen  that  the  idea  of  writing  a 
book,  embracing  his  own  experience  and  observations  dur- 
ing the  time  in  which  he  participated  in  the  lumberman's 
life,  suggested  itself. 

Recollecting  that,  while  the  life,  habits,  and  adventures 
of  many  classes  of  men  had  engaged  the  attention  of  tho 
reading  community,  and  that,  among  the  multitude  of  nar- 
ratives issued  from  the  press,  nothing  of  interest  or  import- 
ance had  been  put  forth  exemplifying  the  life  and  adven- 
tures of  a  very  large  class  of  persons  known  as  lumber- 
men, he  naturally  became  possessed  with  a  desire  to  enter- 
tain others  with  some  relation  of  what  appeared  to  him  to 


f 


IV 


PREFACE. 


afTorcl  siifriciont  material  for  a  Look  of  some  inlercst,  and 
('hi(!lly  because  tlie  lualter  it  miL^lit  eiubraec  had  never 
l>een  i)r(\scnted  in  a  connected  delail. 

Siigs^estiiii]^  the  suhstanco  of  what  has  already  Leen  said 
to  several  intelliL^^'nt  Innibcrnien,  an  interest  was  fit  oneo 
awakened  in  their  feelings  npon  the  subject,  accompanied 
with  an  urgcuit  request  that  the  plan  should  be  prosecuted, 
and  Ihat  a  work  should  be  prepared  which  might  midvo 
their  pursuits,  adventures,  and  hardships  more  generally 
known.  To  many  of  these  friends  the  author  is  also  in- 
debted for  some  assistance  in  furnishing  statistical  matter. 

In  incorporating  the  somewhat  lengthy  notice  of  Forest 
Trees,  forming  the  first  part  of  this  volume,  the  author  has 
ventured  to  make  his  own  taste  and  feelinii^s  the  criterion 
by  which  he  has  been  guided  in  his  selections  and  obser- 
vations for  the  reader,  and  although  they  may  not  hold  a 
strict  relation  to  the  narrative,  he  hopes  that  they  may  not 
be  deemed  inappropriate  or  uninteresting. 

This  volume  makes  no  pretensions  to  literary  merit ; 
sooner  would  it,  indeed,  claim  kindred  with  the  wild  and 
uncultivated  scenes  of  which  it  is  but  a  simple  relation. 

In  justice  to  the  gentlemen  whom  he  has  quoted  in  ar- 
ranging the  statistical  portion  of  this  volume,  as  well  as  to 
himself,  the  author  would  state  that  the  material  was  pro- 
cured some  four  years  ago.  The  statement  of  this  fact 
may  account  for  any  discrepancy  wdiich  may  appear  from 
more  recent  accounts  of  the  lumbering  interests,  should 
they  be  found  to  vary  from  the  representations  here  made. 

The  Author. 


I 


M 


i 


■est,  and 
d  iicvor 

5cn  said 
at  ()i](!o 
ipaniod 
ecu  ted, 
t  inako 
iKM'ally 
lIso  iu- 
natf(3r. 
Torcst 
ior  has 
iterion 
obser- 
liold  a 
ay  not 

nerit ; 
-I  and 
ion. 
.11  ar- 
as  to 
!  pro- 
fact 
from 
Lould 
lade. 

R. 


PART  I. 

TEEES  OF  AMEKICA. 


PART  II. 

THE  PINE  TREE,  OR  FOREST  LIFE. 


-■^"^/%y%,'*  -V-V-V* 


PART  III. 

BIYER  LIFE. 


K 


f 


i 


CONTENTS. 

PART  I. 

TREES   OF    AMERICA. 

CIIAPTKIl    I. 

Trees,  how  rcgnnlccl  by  T.miibcrnicii. — Cellars  of  Lcbannn. — (^Mcst  Tri'o 
oil  llori)nl — Napoloou'rt  Urganl  for  it — Diiiiciismiis. — I)iiiiil)ilily  of  tlio 
Cedar,  how  accounted  lor. — The  Oak — IJi-liijioiis  Veneration  in  wliicU  it 
was  held  by  the  Drniib — The  Uses  to  which  their  ShtKU'  was  npimipri- 
aic'(b — Ciirirtus  Vahiation  of  Oak  Forests  by  tho  Ancient  Saxons. — Tiio 
Number  of  iSi>ocic8. — Its  Value. — Remarkable  old  Oak  in  liri-^hton. — Char- 
ter Oak. — liultou-wood  Tree — Remarkable  Rapidity  of  its  (Jrowth. — Ro- 
inarkal)le  Si/o  of  one  measured  by  Washington — by  Miclmux.  —  Diseaso 
in  18 1-2,  'i;?,  and  '11. — The  Oriental  I'lanc-tree— Cheat  Kavorito  with  tho 
Ancients. — Cimon's  JOlVort  to  gratify  the  Athenians. — I'liny's  Account  (jf 
its  TransjMirtution. — The  Privilege  of  its  Shade  u  Ta.\ — Used  as  an  Orna- 
ment— Nouri.-ilied  with  Wine. — Ilortensius  and  Cicero. — I'liny's  curious 
Account  of  ono  of  remarkable  Size i'^iye  13 

CIIArXER   II. 

The  Elm. — English  Elm. — Scotch  Elm. — Slippery  Elm. — American  Elm.— 
Superiority  of  latter. — DitFerent  Shapes,  how  acconntt'd  for. — Great  Elm 
on  Boston  Common — Rapidity  of  Growth. — Tho  Riding  Stick. — Remark- 
able Dimensions  of  noted  Trees. — Boston  Elm  again — Its  Age — By  whom 
Bet  out. — Washington  Elm,  why  so  named. — *'  Trees  of  Peace,"  a  Tribute 
of  Respect.  —  English  Elm  in  England  and  America. — Uses  in  France— 
In  Russia. — Birch  Family — Its  Variety  and  Uses. — Tho  Maplo  Family. — 
Number  of  Species.  —  Red  Abiple.  —  Unrivaled  Beauty  of  American  For- 
ests.— Rock  Maple — Amount  of  Wood  cut  from  one  in  Blanford. — Cm-ious 
method  of  distinguishing  it  from  the  River  Maple. — Amount  and  Value  of 
the  Sugar  in  Mas.sachusetts. — CJreat  Product  from  ono  Tree. — Sugar  Maple 
in.  the  State  of  Maine. — Dr.  Jackson's  Reports,  &c 19 


J 


Vlll 


COXTFA'Tg. 


CHArTEii  rir. 

Bepcli-fivpH — Purity,  Ri/.p,  I'luit — Ull'mtrt  of  I'Kvirs  nftcr  tlio  Nut— Tlio  Uhos 
l(t  wliicli  it.s  Lt'!i\c«  arc  ai)|iiii|itiiitc(| — Mr.  La'idcr'rt  Tostiinntiy,  vVc. — U.so 
of  \V(i()(l — Siiif:iilar  Kxfiii|iti()n — TUo  novrl  Aiiiuarnp^ .,  •)f'  llic  Lciivcrt  ol'u 
SptM'irs  in  Ciunuany. — (Jlifstiiut-troc — Ifeinarkulilo  iokj  on  Moiiiil  .i^tiui. — 
Ualin  of  (iilcatl. — Willow. — Ash. — IJasswood,  or  Tid-trco. — The  I'oplar. 
— 'J'hc  Iluuilock — HtJautif's  of  itH  Foliage — Uses. —  Flii'kory. — Tlif  Kir-treo. 
— S|inico-tn}(' — Its  conical  Form — U.se8. — AniL'rican  Larch — Success  of  tho 
Dukes  of  Athul  in  planting  it  on  the  Highlands  of  Scotland I'ugo  28 


« 


u 


PART  II. 

THE   riNE   TREE,   OH  FOREIST   LIFE. 

C  HATTER    I. 

Tho  rinos. — White  Pines  :  rank  claimed  for  this  Variety. — Prediloctions.— 
Comparison  instituted. — Pitch  and  Norway  Pines. — White  Pine. — Mag- 
nitude.— New  York  Pines. — Lambert's  Piuo  on  Northwest  Coast. — Varie- 
ties.— Its  Rank. — CJreat  variety  of  purposes  to  which  it  is  devoted. — Great 
Pine  near  Jackson  Lake. — Capital  Invested. — Hands  employed  on  tho 
Penobscot 37 


P'  h 


CHAPTER    XL 

Tho  Pino  twcnty-fivo  Years  ago — Its  rapid  Disappearance. — Explorations. — 
Outfit. — Up-river  Journeying. — Its  Distance. — Mode  of  Nightly  Encamp- 
ment.— Cooking. — Disturbed  Slumbers. — Ludicrous  Fright. — Deer. — En- 
counter with  IJeara. — Mode  of  Exploring. — Forest  Observatoiy. — Climbing 
Trees.-  -Tho  Emotions  excited  by  tho  View. — Necessity  of  Compass. — 
Nature's  Compass. — The  Return. — Annoyances  from  mischievous  Boars. — 
Stumpage. — Permits. — Outfit  and  Return. — Crossing  Cariying-places.— 
A  Strong  Man. — Skill  of  Boatmen. — Item  of  personal  Experience. — Blind 
Path. — A  Family  in  tho  Wilderness. — Things  to  be  considered  in  locating 
Camps 44 

CHAPTER   IIL 

Method  of  constructing  Camp  and  Hovel. — Timber. — Covering. — Arrange- 
ment of  Interior. — The  Bed. — Deacon  Seat. — Ingenious  Method  of  inak- 


i 


f 

I 


CONTENTS!. 


IX 


iiif,'  n  Sivit. — ('doUiti;,':  suprriof  M»;tli()il  (»f  IJukiii;,'. — Tlio  niLilitly  Camp 
VWi'. —  fiiiiltililioH  from  t;ikiii^  I'iic. — A  (Jump  coiisumcd. — Mm  Uuini'd  U) 
Dfiitli. — Kiijitymuiit.— Tliu  nowCiiini):  Di'dicalion.— A  Song.— A  Sitiry. 
— Now  Unlcr  ill  Artliitrcimo. — (Jx  IIuvul. — Siihstitiito  for  Limo. — Tlio 
Devotcdiu'ns  of  iIjo  Tunmstor. — Fat  urul  U'tm  Cattlo.— Swiunpiii','  Kosids. — 
Clump.s  of  rinc. — Tliu  pniiifs  of  liitcrost  in  u  Lojrqiiig  Itoad. — Tin-  Team- 
ster's I'ath. — llegrut. — Tliu  poculiar  KiijoyiiiLMit  of  Mm  tluis  cnyagi'd 

I'ago  C5 
ClIArTKU    IV. 

Tiilcms  of  Wintor. — Tin"  Anticipation. — Introduction  of  Team. — DifTiciilties 
attciidini,'  it. — rncondljrtahlL!  l{oatin^^ — Tiie  (Jonlrast. — Mdliod  of  cross- 
ing SlrfN'iniHand  Uivcrs. — Tlio  Docility  (»f  tlio  Ox. — KacilitioB  of  Turnpikes. 
— Stopping-places. — Arrival. — An  Adventure. — Tun  Oxen  in  tlie  Ice. — 
Melliod  oflukingtliemCJut. — An  uncomfortalilo  Night. — The  midnight  Cx- 
curMion. — Oxen  running  at  largo  in  tho  Wilderness. — Developments  of 
Memory. — Logging. — Division  of  Labor. — How  to  manage  in  tho  ahsi-nco 
of  a  Cook. — "Undo  Nat." — Anecdote.  —  lulling  Tines. —  [iigeniiity  of 
Choppi.'is. — I'reparatory  Arrangements. — The  15ol)-.sled. — Method  of  Op- 
eration described. — TIio  Excitement. — Comparison. — Immediate  Length 
of  riuo-trees. — Cuuclusiou 83 


..   44 


CHAPTER    V. 

Tho  Skill  and  Enterpriso  of  Luiiibormon. — Mt'thod  of  taking  Logs  down 
Hills  and  Mountains.  —  Dry  Sluice.  —  Stern  Anchor. — Ciiaiit  Mountain 
Steps. — Alpine  Luinboring. — War[)ing  a  Team  down  Stoops. — Trial  of 
Skill  and  Strength. — The  rival  Load. — Danger  and  Inconvenience  of  Hills 
in  Logging  Koads. — A  distressing  Accident. — Solomii  Conclusion  of  a  Win- 
ter's Work. — S(jine  of  tho  Perils  attendant  upon  Lumbering. — .V  fearful 
Wound. — Narrow  Escape. — Tho  buried  Cap. — Tho  safest  Way  of  Kotreat. 
— A  Saltbath  in  the  Logging  Camp. — Sunday  Morning  Naps. — Domestic 
Camp  Duties. — Letter  Writing. — Uecroatioiis. — Sable  Traps. —  Door  and 
Moose. — Bear  Meat. — A  rare  .loke. — Moose  Hunt. — Bewildered  Hunters. 
— Extraordinary  Encounter. — Conclusion  of  Sabbath  in  the  Woods..   100 

CHAPTER    VL 

Camp  Life.  —  Winter  Evenings.  —  An  Evening  in  Camp.  —  Characters. — 
Card-playing. — A  S(jng — Collision  with  wild  I'easts. — Tho  unknown  An- 
imal in  a  Dilonuua. — "Indian  Dovil." — The  Aborigines'  Terror. — A  shock- 


CONTENTS. 


ing  Encounter — Tlic  Dirtcovery  and  Piirsiiit. — The  I?ear  as  an  Antagonist 
— Theii'  tliicving  I'ropcnsilies. — A  thrilling  Scene  in  the  Night. — A  des- 
perate Encounter  ^ilh  three  Bears .»_ Tage  129 


CHATTER    VII. 


I    f 


;i 


A  Night  in  the  Woods. — Travehngon  Ice- 


Provision  Teams. — LiabiUties 

A  Span  of  Horses  h)8t. — Pat's  Adventure. — Drogers'  Caravan. — Horses  in 
the  Water. — Recoveiy  of  a  sunken  Load. — Returning  Vohinteers  from 
Aroostook. — I)esci"2)tion  of  a  Log  Tavern. — I'erils  on  Lakes  in  Snow-storms. 
— Camping  at  Night. — Rude  Ferry-boats 142 


PART  III. 

RIVER    LIFE. 

CHATTER    L 

"Breaking  Up." — Grotesque  Tarading  down  River. — Rum  and  Intemper- 
ance.— Religious  Rites  profaned. — River-driving  on  Temperance  Princi- 
ples.— The  first  Experiment. — A  spiritual  Song ..   149 

CHATTER   II. 

Log-landing. — Laborious  Exposure. — Damming  Streams. — Exciting  Scenes. 
—  Log-riding.  —  Fun.  —  Breaking  a  Dry-landing.  —  A  sudden  Death. — 
Thrilling  Scenes  on  the  "  Nesourdnehunk." — Lake-driving. — Steam  Tow- 
boat. — Remarks  on  Lake  Navigation. — Driving  the  main  River. — Union 


of  Crews. — Substantial  Jokes. — Log  Marks. 


-Dangers  of  River-driving. — 


Sad  Feelings  over  the  Grave  of  a  River-driver. — Singular 


ibstitute  for  a 

C(tffin. — Burial  of  a  River-driver. — A  Log  .Tam. — Great  Excitement. — A 
Boat  swamped. — A  Man  drowned. — Narrow^  Escape. — Mode  of  Living  on 
the  River. — Wangun. — Antidote  for  Asthma. — The  Wangun  swamped. — 
An  awful  Struggle. — The  miraculous  Escape. — Driving  among  the  Islands. 
•^Amusing  Exertions  at  identifying. — Consummation  of  Driving. — The 
Claims  of  lumbering  Business  for  greater  Tromineuco. — The  Boom..  155 

CHATTER    IIL 

Observations  on  the  St.  Croix  River. — Boundary  Line. — Tine  Timber. — Ag- 
riculture ill  the  Interior. — Youthful  Associations  with  Grand  Lake. — Tradi- 


11 
It 

Ir 


CONTEXTS. 


XI 


tioiiary  Naino  of  (iiaii.l  Lako. — Lake  Clie-pot-na-ronk. — Uiso  of  l^istoni 
Branch  St.  ('roix. — LiiiiiUeiiiig  I'lospocls. — Hfiiilork. — Kocii)rt)i.-al  Rcla- 
t'lDiis  of  the  LiimlxM'  Trado  bftwiMMi  Aincncuus  and  Provincials. — Tlio 
Macliias  River.-:. — Origin  of  Name. — Cliaracterof  Soil. — Lumber  Resources 
and  Statistics. — West  ^Li<  liias. — Narraijuagues  River,  curious  Defuiitiou 
of — Capacity  of  Stream.—  statistics. — Union  River — Observations  t)n  its 
Lumbering  Interests. — Mills  in  Franklin Pago  17G 

CHAPTER    IV. 

Penobscot  River — Its  various  Names — Character  of  the  Country  through 
\vlil(  h  it  ilows — Its  Length — The  vast  Kxtent  of  Territory  which  it  drains 
—  Its  Midtitude  of  Lakes. — MoTint  Ktaadn. — Indian  Legend. — Klevatiou 
of  the  Mountain. — Overwhehning  Prospect. — A  Sabbath  in  tho  Wilder- 
ness.— Moose  in  the  Lake. — An  uncomfortable  Night. — Dr.  .Iack.son's  Nar- 
rative.— New  Lumber  Resources. — The  interesting  Origin  of  this  new  Ro- 
soiuce. — John  lUdl  outwitted. — Presliets  on  tho  Penobscot. — Freshet  of 
1810,  cause  of  it. — Sudden  Rise  of  Water. — Bangor  submergeiL — Bowl- 
ders of  Ice. — Destruction  of  Pnjperty. — Narrow  Escape  of  Ferry-boat.^ 
Peril  of  Boys. — Editorial  Obsen'ations. — Lund)(>r  Statistics. — Where  tho 
Lund)er  finds  a  Market. — Speculations  on  futta-e  Prospects  of  Lumbering 
Interests. — Anticipations  of  tho  Future. — Bangor 186 


)ed. — 
slands. 
■The 
155 


-Ag- 
Trudi- 


CIIAPTER    V. 

Length  of  Kennebeck. — Moose-head  Lake — Its  peculiar  Shape — Its  Islands. 
— Burned  .Jacket. — Interesting  Deposit. — Mo(mt  Kineo. — Tho  Prospect 
from  its  Stmnnit. — Moose  River. — Old  Indian. — The  Baidca  of  the  Kenne- 
beck.— Beauties  of  the  Country,  iVc. — Lund)er  on  Dead  River. — Falls  at 
Waterville. —  Skowhegan  Falls. —  Arnold's  Encampment. —  Nau-lau-chii- 
wak  — Caritutdc  Falls.  —  Lumber.  —  Statistics.  —  Authf)r's  Acknowledg- 
ments.— Androscoggin — Course  and  other  Pecidiarities. — A  'piest'on  of 
Rivahy. — Water  Power. — Original  Indications. — Interesting  Sketch  of 
Ruinford  Falls. — Estimated  Water  Power. — T-umber  Statistics. — Droughts 
and  Freshets. — Umbagog  Lake. — Tlu;  serpentine  Megalloway. — Granite 
Mountains. — Beautiful  Foliage. — Romantic  Fidls. — Character  of  Country. 
— Manner  of  Life  in  Log-cutting,  v.*tc. — Statistics,  v*ijc. — Presomitscol  Riv- 
er, great  Water-powers  of. — Warmth  of  Water. — Statistical  Remarks.— 
Saco  River 227 


xu 


CONTENTS. 


'Sjl 


; 


h 


CHArXKR    VI. 

NKVV    BRUNSWICK. 

Object  of  the  Chapter. — Description  of  St.  John's  IJiver. — First  Falls. — Con- 
tiguous Country. — "Mars  11111." — Trospoct. —  Gnuicl  Fulls. —  The  Aca- 
tlians,  curious  Facts  respecting  them. — The  Miriniachi  River. — Immense 
amount  of  Timber  shipped. — Riots. — State  of  Morals. — The  great  Miri- 
machi  Fire. — Hurricane. — Destruction  of  Human  Life. — Area  of  the  Fire. 
— Vessels  in  Harbor. — Painfully  disgusting  Sights. — Destruction  among 
Fish. —  Fire,  i'ai)idity  of  Progress. —  Curious  instance  of  Escape. —  Risti- 
gouche  River,  its  Length — Capacious  Harbor. — Appearance  of  the  Couu- 
tiy. — High  Banks. — Groves  of  Pine. — A  Statistical  Table Pago  244 


LIST  OF  ExNGRAVINGS. 

Fronlispicce — Moose  Deer. 

Shooting  Deer — lilack  Bear Page  49 

Winter  Quarters  of  Lumbermen G9 

Log  Hauling — Process  of  Loading  Logs... 95 

The  Common  Wolf 11,3 

Log  Tavern  hi  the  Wilderness 14G 

.River  Drivers  Breaking  a  Jam 105 

A  Coaster  ascending  the  Penobscot  for  Lumber 187 

View  of  the  Penobsccjt — Forests  and  Lakes  northeast  from  Ktaadn 189 

Northeast  View  of  Mount  Ktaudn,  from  the  west  Branch  of  the  Penob- 
scot     199 

Godfrey's  Falls,  on  the  Seboois  River 208 

Chase's  Mountain,  as  seen  from  Sugar-loaf  Mountain....  ._ 211 

Sugar-loaf  Mountain,  on  the  Seboois  River 225 

View  of  Lily  Bay,  on  Moose-head  Lake 228 

Skowhegan  Falls,  on  tho  Kennebeck 231 

Rumford  Falls,  on  the  Androscoggin 235 

View  of  Umbagog  Lalte — Source  of  the  Androscoggin 237 

Frye's  Fulls,  on  a  Tributary  of  Ellis  River 238 

Rumford  Bridge,  Androscoggin  River 239 

A r o 0 s t o 0 k  F alls 2 -j 0 


m 


FOREST  LIFE  AND  FOREST  TREES. 


rage  49 
..  G9 
..  95 
..  113 
..  14G 
..  1G5 
..  187 
..  189 
lob- 

..  199 
..  208 
..  211 
225 
..  22S 
..  231 
..  235 
.  237 
.  238 
.  239 
250 


PART  L 

CHAPTER   I. 

Trees,  how  regarded  by  Lumbermen. — Cedars  of  Lebanon. — Oldest  Tree 
on  Record — Napoleon's  Regard  for  it — Dimensions. — DuraVulity  of  the 
Codar,  how  accounted  for. — The  Oak — Religious  Veneration  v.\  which  it 
was  held  by  the  Druids — The  Uses  to  which  their  Shade  was  appropri- 
ated.— Curious  Valuation  of  Oak  Forests  by  the  Ancient  Saxons. — Tlio 
Number  of  Species. — Its  Value. — Remarkable  old  Oak  in  Brighton. — Char- 
ter Oak. — Button-wood  Tree — Remarkable  Rapidity  of  its  Growth. — Re- 
markable Size  of  one  measured  by  Washington — by  Michaux.  —  Diseaso 
in  1812,  '43,  and  '44.— The  Oriental  iMaue-tree— Great  Favorite  with  the 
Ancients. — Cimon's  Efibrt  to  gratify  the  Athenians. — Pliny's  Account  of 
its  Transportation. — The  Privilege  of  its  Shade  a  Tax — Used  as  an  Orna- 
ment—Nouiished  with  Wine. — Hortensius  and  Cicero. — Pliny's  curious 
Account  of  one  of  remarkable  Size. 

Lumbermen  are  accustomed  to  classify  and  rate  forest  trees  by 
tlie  lower,  middle,  and  hif^^her  ^^rades,  just  as  animals  are  classi- 
fied, from  the  muscle,  throu«^li  the  intermediate  grades,  up  to  man, 
tlio  crowning  master-piece  of  the  Creator's  skill.  But  while  man 
is  universally  recognized  as  first  in  the  scale  of  animated  nature, 
there  is  less  uniformity  of  sentiment  in  respect  to  trees,  as  to 
which  is  entitled  to  hold  the  first  rank  in  the  vegetable  kingdom. 
In  the  days  of  King  David  and  Solomon,  the  noble  Cedars  of  Leb- 
anon held  the  pre-eminence,  and  were  celebrated  in  verse  as 
emblems  of  beauty,  grandeur,  and  especially  of  durability  ;  but 
"  with  the  moderns  the  Cedar  is  emblematical  of  sadness  and 
mourning  :" 


li' 


14 


FOREST    LIFE    A\D 


I'l 


"  Dark  tree  !  still  sad  when  others'  grief  is  fled— 
The  only  constaut  mourner  of  the  dead." — Byuo.v. 

"  Perhaps  the  oldest  tree  on  record  is  the  Cypress  of  Somma, 
ill  Lombardy.  It  is  supposed  to  have  been  phmted  in  the  year 
of  the  birth  of  Christ,  and  on  that  account  is  looked  upon  with 
rcvcronce  by  the  inhabitants  ;  but  an  ancient  chronicle  at  Milan 
is  said  to  prove  that  it  was  a  tree  in  the  time  of  Julius  Cn-sar, 
B.C.  42.  It  is  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  feet  high,  and 
twenty-three  feet  in  circumference  at  one  foot  from  the  ground. 
Napoleon,  when  laying  down  the  plan  for  his.  great  road  over 
the  ISimplon,  diverged  from  a  straight  line  to  avoid  injuring  this 
tree."* 

"  The  Cedar  was  styled  the  glory  of  Lebanon,  The  Temple 
of  Solomon  and  that  of  Diana  at  Ephesus  were  built  of  this 
wood.  The  number  of  these  trees  is  now  greatly  diminished. 
They  were  often  of  vast  si/e,  sometimes  girting  thirty-six  feet, 
perfectly  sound,  Avith  a  lofty  height,  whose  spreading  branches 
extended  one  hundred  and  ten  feet."  The  durability  of  the  Ce- 
dar is  said  to  be  attributable  to  two  qualities  :  "1st,  the  bitter- 
ness of  the  wood,  which  protects  it  from  the  depredations  of 
Avorms  ;  and,  2dly,  its  resin,  which  preserves  it  from  the  injuries 
of  the  weather." 

To  the  Oak  some  assign  the  first  rank.  It  is  celebrated  in  the 
East,  and  by  many  of  the  ancients  was  regarded  with  religious 
veneration.  In  the  West,  and  by  moderns,  it  is  employed  more 
as  an  emblem  of  the  strength,  compactness,  and  durability  of  tho 
state, 

"  The  religious  veneration  paid  to  this  tree  by  the  original  na- 
tives of  Britain,  In  the  time  of  the  Druids,  is  well  known  to  ev- 
ery reader  of  British  history."  The  patriarch  Abraham  resided 
under  an  Oak,  or  a  grove  of  Oaks  ;  and  it  is  believed  that  he 
planted  a  grove  of  this  tree.     "  In  fact,  since,  in  hot  countries, 

*  IMass,  Reports. 


'} 


FOREST  TREKS. 


15 


^omma, 
he  year 
on  with 
,t  Milan 
i  Cu'sar, 
5I1,  and 
ground, 
ad  over 
•ing  this 

Temple 
:  of  this 
linislied. 
six  feet, 
)ranches 
the  Ce- 
e  bitter- 
tions  of 
injuries 

1  in  the 

:limous 
id  more 
y  of  the 

inal  na- 
1  to  ev- 
rc  sided 
that  he 
untries, 


nothing  is  more  desirable  than  shade — notliing  more  rofresliiiig 
than  the  shade  of  a  tree — we  may  easily  suppose  the  inhabitants 
"woLikl  resort  for  snch  enjoyment  to 

"  Where'er  iho  Oak's  tliiclc  brandies  spread 
A  doeiicr,  darker  sliiide." 

Oaks,  and  groves  of  Oaks,  were  esteemed  proper  places  for  re- 
ligious services  ;  so  that  while  the  Methodist  denomination  may 
not  claim  originality  hi  holding  grove  or  camp-meetings,  they 
may,  at  least,  plead  the  usages  of  antirpiily  in  their  defense. 
Altars  M'ere  set  up  under  them  ;  affairs  of  state  were  discussed 
and  ratified  under  their  ample  shade. 

"  Abimelech  was  made  king  under  an  Oak."  "  Absalom  rode 
upon  a  mule  which  went  under  the  thick  boughs  of  a  great  Oak, 
and  his  head  caught  hold  of  the  Oak,  and  he  was  taken  up  be- 
tween the  heaven  and  the  earth,"  and,  while  there  suspended, 
was  slain  by  Joab  and  his  armor-bearers. 

"  In  England,  whose  Oak  forests  are  now  one  of  the  sources  of 
national  wealth  and  naval  supremacy,  the  tree  was  once  prized 
only  for  the  acorns,  which  were  the  chief  support  of  those  large 
herds  of  swine  whose  flesh  formed  so  considerable  a  part  of  the 
food  of  the  Saxons.  Woods  of  old,  says  Burnett,  were  valued 
according  to  the  number  of  hogs  they  could  fatten  ;  and  so  rig- 
idly were  the  forest  lands  surveyed,  that,  in  ancient  records,  such 
as  the  Doomsday-book,  woods  arc  mentioned  of  a  sin"-lc  hon- 
The  right  of  feeding  hogs  in  woods,  called  pannage,  formed, 
some  centuries  ago,  one  of  the  most  valuable  kinds  of  property. 
With  this  right  monasteries  were  endowed,  and  it  often  consti- 
tuted the  dowry  of  the  daughters  of  the  Saxon  kings."* 

Of  the  Oak  some  naturalists  have  enumerated  twenty-four  spe- 
cies. The  wood  of  the  AYhite  Oak  is  distinguished  by  th]  j  prop- 
erties, Avhich  give  to  it  its  great  value  :  hardness,  toughness,  and 
durability.     The  great  variety  of  purposes  to  which  it  is  appro- 

*  Mass.  Reports,  Trees,  &.c. 


^y 


16 


FOREST    LIFE    AND 


ill 


!        I 


priated  shows  it  to  be  a  tree  of  great  value.  For  ship  and  car- 
ria«2;c  building,  and  in  the  manuiaeture  of  implements  of  hus- 
baiulry,  it  is  very  valuable.  This  tree  also  holds  rank  on  ac- 
count of  its  size.  In  the  "  Report  on  the  Trees  and  >)hrubs  of 
Massachusetts,"  notice  is  given  of  one  still  standing  in  Brighton. 
"  In  October,  1815,  it  measured  twenty-five  feet  and  nine  inches 
in  circumference  at  the  surface.  At  three  feet,  it  is  twenty-two 
feet  lour  inches  ;  at  six  feet,  fifteen  feet  two  inches.  It  tapers 
gradually  to  the  height  of  about  twenty-five  feet,  where  the  stump 
of  its  ancient  top  is  visible,  below  which  point  four  or  five  branch- 
es are  thrown  out,  which  rise  twenty  or  thirty  feet  higher.  Be- 
low, the  places  of  many  former  limbs  are  covered  over  by  immense 
gnarled  and  bossed  protuberances.  The  trunk  is  hollow  at  the 
base,  with  a  large  opening  on  the  soutliAvest,  through  which  boys 
and  men  may  easily  enter.  It  had  probably  passed  its  prime  cen- 
turies before  the  first  English  voice  was  heard  on  the  shores  of 
Massachusetts  Bay.  It  is  still  clad  with  abundant  foliage,  and, 
if  respected  as  its  venerable  age  deserves,  it  may  stand  an  object 
of  admiration  for  centuries  to  come." 

The  Charter  Oak,  in  Hartford,  Connecticut,  is  said  to  measure 
at  the  ground  thirty-six  feet ;  and  in  the  smallest  place  above  it 
is  eight  feet  four  inches  in  diameter. 

THE  BUTTON-WOOD  TREE. 

This  tree  is  "  remarkable  for  the  rapidity  of  its  growth,  espe- 
cially when  standing  near  water.  Loudon  mentions  one  which, 
standing  near  a  pond,  had  in  tM'enty  years  attained  the  height 
of  eighty  feet,  with  a  trunk  eight  feet  in  circumference  at  three 
feet  from  the  ground,  and  a  head  of  the  diameter  of  forty-eight 
feet."  "  Nowhere  is  this  tree  more  vigorous  than  along  the  rivers 
of  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia,  and  especially  on  the  Ohio  and  its 
tributaries."  '  General  Washington  measured  a  Putton-M'ood 
growing  on  an  island  in  the  Ohio,  and  found  its  girth,  at  five  feet 


.■,a 


1 


FOREST    TREES. 


17 


uul  car- 
ol" liiis- 
:  on  tio- 
irubs  of" 
ri<zhloii. 
e  inclies 
:iity-two 
t  tapers 
e  stump 
brauch- 
ii.  Bc- 
mrriciise 
/•  at  the 
ich  boys 
iiiic  ceii- 
hores  of 
?e,  and, 
11  object 

measure 
ibove  it 


li,  espe- 
which, 
height 
it  three 
ty-eight 
e  rivers 
and  its 
)n-wood 
Ive  feet 


from  the  ground,  about  forty  feet.'  "In  1802,  the  younger  Mi- 
chaux  and  his  companions  found  a  Lirge  tree  of  this  kind  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  Ohio,  thirty-six  miles  from  Marietta.  Its  base 
was  swollen  in  an  extraordinaiy  manner,  but,  at  four  feet  from 
the  ground,  its  circumi"ercncc  was  found  to  be  forty-seven  feet," 
or  fifteen  feet  and  eight  inches  in  diameter.  It  is  said  that  "  it 
may  be  propagated  with  more  ease  than  any  tree  of  the  forest." 
"It  is  valuable  stove  fuel."  S.  W.  Tomeroy,  Esq.,  a  writer  in 
the  New  England  Farmer,  expresses  the  opinion  that,  on  land 
possessing  the  same  fertility,  this  tree  will  furnish  fuel  which 
will  give  the  greatest  amount  of  caloric  to  the  acre,  except  the 
locust  on  dry  soil. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  in  1842,  '43,  and  '44,  this  tree  ap- 
peared to  be  under  the  influence  of  a  general  blight  throughout 
the  Eastern  States.  Various  opinions  were  entertained  respect- 
ing the  cause  of  the  malady  which  occasioned  so  much  regret. 
"  By  most  persons  it  was  considered  the  effect  of  frost,  supposing 
the  tree  not  to  have  matured  its  wood,  viz.,  the  new  shoots,  dur- 
ing the  previous  summer,  so  that  it  was  incapable  of  resisting  the 
effect  of  frost."  Others  ascribed  it  to  the  action  of  some  insect 
or  worm,  and  others  believed  it  to  be  some  unaccountable  disease, 
while  others  regarded  the  phenomenon  as  a  providential  token 
of  the  approach  of  some  important  event  unknown  and  unantici- 
pated. The  tree  has  now  pretty  generally  recovered  from  its 
malady. 

"  The  Oriental  Plane-tree  holds  the  same  place  on  the  Eastern 
continent  which  our  Button- wood  docs  on  this."  It  was  the 
greatest  favorite  among  the  ancients."  "  Cimon  sought  to  grat- 
ify the  Athenians  by  planting  a  public  walk  with  them."  "  It 
was  considered  the  finest  shade  tree  in  Europe."  "  Pliny  tells 
the  story  of  its  having  been  brought  across  the  Ionian  Sea,  to 
shade  the  tomb  of  Diomedcs,  in  the  island  of  the  hero.  From 
thence  it  was  taken  to  Sicily,  then  to  Italy  ;  from  Italy  to  Spain, 


II 


t, 


I 


18 


FOREST    LIFK    AND 


and  even  into  the  most  remote  parts  of  the  then  barbarous  France, 
■where  tlie  natives  were  aiadc  to  pay  for  the  privilege  of  sitting 
under  its  shade. 

"  No  tree  was  ever  so  great  a  favorite  with  the  Homans.  They 
ornamented  their  villas  with  it,  valuing  it  above  all  other  trees 
for  the  depth  of  its  salutary  shade,  &e.  They  nourished  it  with 
pure  wine  ;  and  Hortensius  is  related  to  have  begged  of  his  rival, 
Cicero,  to  exchange  turns  with  him  in  a  cause  in  which  they 
were  engaged,  that  he  might  himself  do  this  olRce  for  a  tree  ho 
liad  planted  in  his  Tusculanum." 

*'  Pliny  describes  some  of  the  most  remarkable  planes.  In  the 
walks  of  the  Academy  at  Athens  were  trees  whose  trunks  were 
about  forty-eight  feet  from  the  ground  to  the  branches.  In  his 
own  time  there  was  one  in  Lycia,  near  a  cool  fountain  by  the  road 
side,  with  a  cavity  of  eighty-one  feet  circuit  within  its  trunk,  and 
a  forest-like  head,  and  arms  like  trees  overshadowing  broad  fields. 
Within  this  apartment,  made  by  moss- covered  stones,  to  resemble 
a  grotto,  Licinius  Mucianus  thought  il  a  fact  worthy  of  history, 
that  he  dined  with  nineteen  companions,  and  slept  there  too,  not 
regretting  splendid  marbles,  pictures,  and  golden-fretted  roofs,  and 
missing  only  the  sound  of  rain  drops  pattering  on  the  leaves."* 

*  Emeraon's  Reports. 


I  ' 


FOREST    TREES. 


19 


Fnuicc, 


sitting 


,  Tliey 
icr  trees 

it  with 
is  rival, 
eh  they 

tree  ho 

In  the 

ks  were 

In  his 

:he  road 

ink,  and 

.d  fields. 

esemble 

history, 

too,  not 

ois,  and 

aves."* 


CIIAPTEll   II. 

Thp  Elm. — Englisli  Elm. — Scotch  Elm. — Sli[)i»ci-y  Elm. — .Vm(M-ican  Elm. — 
Superiority  of  latter. — DilVereiit  Slja[)es,  how  accounted  for. — Great  Elm 
on  B(Kstou  Common — Uapiilify  of  Growth. — The  Hiding  Slick. — Uemark- 
able  Dimensions  of  noted  Trees. — lioston  Elm  again — It.s  Age — By  whom 
pet  out. — Washington  VA\n,  why  so  named. — "  Trees  of  I'l'ace,"  a  Trihnto 
of  Uesjiect.  —  111  .'ish  Ehn  in  England  and  America. — Uses  in  France — 
In  Russia. — Birch  Family — Its  Variety  and  Usi-s. — The  Ma[ilt,'  Family. — 
Number  of  Species.  —  Red  iMaple.  —  Unrivaled  Beauty  of  American  For- 
ests.— Rock  Maple — Amount  of  Wood  cut  from  one  in  Blanford. — Curious 
method  of  distinguishing  it  from  the  River  Maple. — Amount  and  Vahu!  of 
the  Sugar  in  Massachusetts. — Great  Product  from  one  Tree. — Sugar  Maple 
in  the  State  of  Maine. — Dr.  Jackson's  Reports,  &,c. 

THE  ELM-TREE, 

Of  this  family  there  arc  several  varieties.  The  Amorican,  the 
English,  the  Scotch,  and  Slippery  Elm.  Oi'  this  enumeration,  the 
American  Elm  stands  first  in  point  of  ornament,  while  the  tim- 
ber of  the  English  Elm  is  esteemed  more  highly  on  account  of 
the  toughness  of  the  wood. 

It  has  been  well  said  that  the  Elm  is  a  tree  deservedly  esteem- 
ed for  its  ornament  and  shade.  "  The  American  Elm  assumes 
many  diiFerent  shapes,  and  all  of  them  beautiful.  Of  these,  three 
are  most  striking  and  distinct.  The  tall  Etruscan  vase  is  formed 
by  four  or  five  limbs  separating  at  twenty  or  thirty  feet  from  the 
ground,  going  up  with  a  gradual  divergency  to  sixty  or  "  7enty, 
and  then  bending  rapidly  outward,  forming  a  dat  top  v'  h  i  end- 
ent  border."  *'  Transplanting  the  Elm,  it  is  said,  often  :  .oduces 
in  it  a  character  akin  to  that  of  the  Oak.  it  is  then  a  broad, 
round-headed  tree."  •'  Of  tliis  kind  is  the  '  Great  Elm'  on  Bos- 
ton Common." 


!'l 


i 


Mi 


I  I 


( 


i 


111 


20 


FOREST    LII'R    AND 


Few  trees  of  oilier  species  are  to  be  found  stiuuliiif^  near  tlio 
aljodes  of  civilized  life  which  have  attained  the  vast  dimensions 
of  the  Elm.  "Whatever  mav  '^avc  been  the  peculiar  properties  of 
other  trees,  they  have  disiip  ^'ci\.  U])ttjrned  liy  the  pas.<in<^ 
hurricane,  or  leveled  by  the  voodinan's  ax,  they  have  passed 
away,  while  the  Elm  stands  at  our  doors  associated  M'ith  the  his- 
tory and  memory  of  the  dillerent  generations  which,  like  its  au- 
tumnal sheddings,  hnvc  lonij:  time  ajro  minirled  with  the  dust. 

The  Elm  grows  with  great  rapidity,  which,  in  addition  to  its 
beauty  as  aii  ornament,  secures  for  it  the  favor  of  man.  "  I  onco 
heard,"  says  the  author  of  Massachusetts  Reports,  kc,  an  old 
man,  standing  under  the  shade  of  a  tree  nearly  two  feet  in  di- 
ameter, which  towered  above  all  around  it,  say,  "  This  tree,  after 
I  had  been  many  years  successi'ul  in  business,  and  in  a  cliango 
of  fortune  had  retired  to  this  farm,  with  a  little  that  remained, 
I  stuck  into  the  ground  after  I  had  used  it  as  a  stick  iu  a  ride 
of  eight  miles  from  P." 

"  From  its  having  been  so  long  a  favorite,  it  has  been  more  fre- 
quently spared,  and  oftener  transplanted  than  any  other  tree. 
There  are,  in  all  parts  of  the  state,  many  fine  old  trees  standing." 
"  In  ypringfield,  in  a  field  a  few  rods  north  of  the  hotel,  is  an  Elm 
>vhich  was  twenty-five  feet  and  nine  inches  in  circumference  at 
three  feet  from  the  ground."  The  great  Elm  on  Boston  Common 
measures,  at  the  same  distance  from  the  ground,  seventeen  feet 
eleven  inches  in  circumference.  "  It  is  said  to  have  been  planted 
about  the  year  1G70,  by  Captain  Daniel  Henchman,  an  ancestor 
of  Governor  Hancock.  It  is,  therefore,  more  than  one  hundred 
and  seventy-five  years  old."  *'  There  is  an  Elm  in  Hatfield,  near 
the  town-house,  which  measures  at  the  ground  forty-one  feet ;  at 
three  and  one  half  feet  from  the  ground  it  measures  twenty-seven 
feet  in  circumference.  The  smallest  place  in  the  trunk  is  seven 
feet  four  inches  in  diameter.  The  top  spreads  over  an  area  of 
one  hundred  and  eight  feet  ill  diameter,  making  a  circle  of  three 


■M. 


FOlUItiT    TUr.Kd. 


21 


Iiuiidivd  iiiid  tvvouly-luiir  feet,  covcriiijr  u  siirriice  of  over  seven 
Ihoiisiind  live  hundred  siiurire  lei-t.  "  "The  Washiii^rtoii  lihii,  ill 
Cuinhridj^e — .so  cnncd  h  ;iii.se  hciu'iilh  its  sluuK',  or  iiciir  it,  (ieii- 
criil  Wushiii^'loii  is  said  to  have  lirst  (haw  ii  liis  sword  ou  takiiif^ 
Ihc  coinmaiid  of  the  American  army — measured,  in  l!^l"i,  fitleeii 
I'eet  two  iiiehes  at  one  loot,  thirteen  teet  two  at  three  i'eet  Ironi 
tlie  ^^round.  The  cndehrated  Wliillield  preached  under  the  shado 
ol'this  tree  in  17  11."  "Two  Ehns  were  set  out  hy  tlu^  Indians 
in  front  of  the  liouso  ol'tlic  ]?('v.  Oliver  Peubody,  who  succeeded, 
in  r7:j'2,  to  tlie  venerahle  I'Miot,  the  Indian  apostle,  in  tlie  same 
truly  Christian  ministry,  in  Natick,"  Ma.ssaehusetts.  "  This  V(d- 
untary  olIc;ring  of  tiie  f^rateful  sava<(es  they  called  Trees  of  I'eace." 

There  is  an  Elm  standing  iii  front  of  AJr.  J.  (Jhickerin^^'s  house, 
Westford,  Massacluisetts,  which  1  recently  measured  ei^^hteeu 
inches  from  the  ground.  Its  circumference  was  twenty  feet,  and 
its  sj)/frs  were  not  })rominent,  as  will  he  inferred  from  the  fact  that 
at  four  feet  from  tlic  groiuid  it  measured  eighteen  feet  in  cireiun- 
ference.  >Soveu  and  a  hall  "feet  from  the  ground  it  divides  into 
two  hranelu's,  each  ol'  itself  a  very  hirge  trunk,  the  largest  of 
^vhich  Avould  measure  three  feet  aiul  a  half  in  diameter.  Seven 
or  eight  feet  from  the  llrst  division,  at  short  intervals,  the  main 
branch,  which  grew  on  the  west  side  next  the  house,  divides  into 
eight  more  branches,  all  nearly  erpial  in  size,  and  averaging  a 
circumference  of  four  and  a  half  feet.  About  forty  feet  from  the 
base  of  the  tree  these  eight  brandies  subdivide  into  twenty-one 
other  branches,  and  so  on  indefinitely  to  the  terminatinjr  twiirs. 
The  east  main  branch  was  divided  into  four  principals,  equal  in 
size  to  the  corresponding  ones  on  the  other  side,  and  were  subdi- 
vided also  in  the  same  manner  as  the  one  described. 

In  height  it  is  about  seventy  feet,  vase-topped,  with  a  pendent 
border.  The  extent  of  the  spreading  branches,  northwest  and 
southeast,  was  one  hundred  and  five  feet  ;  those  corresponding 
with  the  exact  opposite  points  of  the  compass  extended  ninety-fivo 


^ 


22 


FOlir.ST    Ml'i:    AM) 


'' 


i    I 


ill 


fuel,  ^nvin^  an  area  of  tlirct'  Iiuudrc'd  Icct  iii  oironmfi'ivnco.  Some 
ol'  llie  })(.'U(leiit  branchc's,  wliioh  (lr()()])c(l  within  a  low  leet  of  iho 
gromul,  I  jitdj^ed  to  bo  Ibrty  leet  ill  k'ii;rth.  These,  stretched  to 
a  liorizoutal  j)ositioii,  would  ^nvu  a  breadth  ol"  one  hundred  and 
ei^'hly  leet  to  the  top.  Various  oi)iiiioiis  obtain  resjiectiiif,'  the 
number  oi" solid  loot  it  contains,  ranging  liom  nine  to  eleven  hund- 
red. 

An  old  gentleman  residing  in  tlie  immediate  vicinity,  now 
eighty  year.s  old,  told  us  that  he  could  very  well  remrmber  it 
wiien  but  a  snuill  tree,  IVom  which  we  iid'er  its  age  to  be  about 
one  hundred  years.  It  ai)[»L'ars  to  be  ])erreetly  sound,  and  now 
thrives  as  vigorously  as  a  young  sapling.  It  is  a  magnilieent  spec- 
imen oi' the  vegetable  kingdom,  majestically  imposing,  awaken- 
ing in  the  spectator  a  ieeling  of  veneration  in  spite  of  himself. 
So  amjde  is  its  wide-si)reading  Etruscan-shaped  top,  that  at  lifty 
rods'  distance  (were  the  trunk  hid)  one  might  mistake  it  for  a 
group  of  twenty  good-sized  trees. 

"  The  Slippery  Elm  has  a  strong  rcscmLlancc  to  the  common 
Elm.  It  has  less  of  the  drooping  appearance,  and  is  connnonly 
a  much  smaller  tree."  "  The  inner  bark  of  this  Elm  contains  a 
great  quantity  of  mucilage.  Flour  prepared  from  the  bark,  by 
drying  perfectly  and  grinding,  and  mixed  with  milk,  like  arrow- 
root, is  a  wholesome  and  nutritious  food  for  infants  and  invalids." 
"Dr.  Darlington  says  that,  in  the  last  war  with  Great  Britain 
tlie  soldiers  on  the  Canada  frontier  found  this,  in  times  of  scarcity 
of  forage,  a  grateful  and  nutritious  food  for  their  horses." 

'  The  English  Elm  is  said  to  have  been  introduced  by  importa- 
tion, and  planted  by  a  whecl-wright  for  his  own  use  in  making 
hubs  for  wheels,  for  which  purpose  they  are  probably  superior  to 
any  other  wood  known.'  In  its  appearance  it  is  said  to  have  *  less 
grace  than  the  American  Elm,  but  more  stateliness  and  gran- 
deur.' *  It  is  distinguished  from  the  American  Elm,  also,  by  the 
rough,  broken  character  of  its  bark,  which  is  darker,  and  also  by 


FORHrn'  Tnnrs. 


23 


Sonic 
3t  of  Iho 
tclied  to 
red  and 
tiii^'  llio 
jii  luiud- 

ty,  now 
'iMl)er  it 
)o  about 
iiul  now 
L-nt  siic'C- 
a  waive  n- 
liiniseli". 
t  at  liriy 
it  I'ur  a 

common 
nnnonly 
iitains  a 
jark,  by 
I  arroAV- 
v-alids." 
Britain 
^careity 

nporta- 
naking- 
prior  to 
'^c  '  less 
gran- 
|by  the 
ildo  by 


liavincf  one  itrincipal  stem,  wliieh  soars  upward  to  a  jrreat  liei<rlit, 
and  I  lie  lioldnes.s  and  al)ruj)lne.sH  witli  wliieli  it  throws  out  il.s 
hranelies.      Tiie  leaves  are  ot' a  darker  color,  smaller,  and  closer.' 

*  The  larirest  dimensions  ^Mveu  ol'the  ICnjilisii  I'ilm  on  the  Con- 
tinent is  sixty  I'eet  hi«?h,  and  twenty  I'eet  in  eireund'ereneo  at  tlio 
j,M-ouiul,  eontaininjjf  two  liundred  and  siixty-ei«,dit  leot  of  lindjer.' 
"  Tlie  Crawley  VAm  stands  in  the  villaf^e  of  Crawley,  on  tlio 
hiirh  road  from  London  to  i'lriifliton.  Its  trunk  measures  sixly-ono 
feet  in  eircunderenco  at  the  «:;round,  and  thirly-live  feet  round 
tlio  insiffe  at  two  feet  from  the  base.  This  tree  is  not  so  larjro 
as  would  scum  from  this  account,  as  it  diminishes  very  rapidly 
upward." 

"  The  noblest  and  most  beautiful  En^^lish  Elms  in  this  country 
are  I'ound  in  lioxbury,  the  larj^est  of  which  mcasin-es  lilteen  feet 
five  inches  five  feet  from  the  j^round  ;  it  holds  its  size  fully  to  the 
hei«,dit  of  twenty  or  twenty-five  feet,  where  it  divides  into  three 
larj^e  brandies,  the  main  central  one  of  which  rises  upward  to  a 
heij^ht  imich  above  one  hundred  feet."  "  As  among  ihe  ancient 
Itomans,  so  in  France  at  the  present  day,  the  leaves  and  shoots 
are  used  to  feed  cattle.  In  Russia,  the  leaves  of  a  species  of  tlio 
Elm  arc  used  as  a  substitute  for  tea.  Th(3  inner  bark  is  in  some 
places  made  into  mats,  anil  in  Norway  they  kiln-dry  it,  and  grind 
it  with  corn  as  an  ingredient  in  bread." 

THK  BIRCH. 

Of  the  Birch  family  there  arc  several  varieties,  called  the  Black, 
Yellow,  Red,  Canoe,  the  Gray,  and  the  Dwarf.  Of  these  tho 
Yellow  and  Canoe  Birches  are  the  most  inteiesting  and  useful. 
The  general  outhnes  of  the  Yellow  Birch  often  resemble  the  Elm, 
the  root-spurs  rise  high  up  the  trunk,  protruding  much  beyond 
the  regular  circle  of  its  shaft.  It  is  very  firmly  rooted,  capable 
of  withstanding  a  violent  blast.  It  attains  to  the  height  of  sev- 
enty or  eighty  feet,  and  often  measures  Irom  nine  to  ten  feet  in  cir- 


^ 


!  . 


hi  If 


' 


t 


I 


21 


FORKST    LITE    AND 


cunifi'i'cncc  three  and  four  feet  from  the  j^roimd.  Its  wood  is  very 
useful  lor  cabinet  ])urposes,  and  is  excellent  for  fuel. 

The  \Yhite  or  Canoe  Birch  is  most  remarkable  for  the  beauti- 
ful thin  sheets  of  bark  which  it  alli)rds,  from  wdiich  the  Indian 
canoe  is  constructed.  It  also  makes  excellent  coverinp^  for  a  tent. 
In  some  parts  of  the  northern  regions  it  is  said  to  attain  a  diam- 
eter of  six  or  seven  leet. 

The  White  Birch  possesses  "in  an  eminent  degree  the  lifrht- 
ness  and  airiness  of  the  Birch  family,  spreading  out  its  glistening 
leaves  on  the  ends  of  a  very  slender  and  often  pencil  spray,  with 
an  indescribable  softness.  >So  that  Coleridge  might  have  called 
it  as  he  did  the  oe  lesponding  European  species, 

"Most  beautiful 
Of  forest  trees — Uio  hidy  of  the  woods." 

THE  MAPLE-TREE. 

This  family  is  very  numerous.  "  Nearly  fprty  species  are 
known,  of  which  ten  belong  to  the  United  States."  *  The  climate 
of  New  England  is  peculiarly  favorable  to  their  growth,  as  is 
shown  by  the  perlection  to  which  several  of  the  most  valuable 
species  attain.'  The  Red  Maple  is  mott  remarkable  for  the  vary- 
ing color  of  its  leaves,  which  greatly  beautify  forest  scenery.  Tho 
leaves  begin  to  turn  in  tho  latter  part  of  summer  and  during  the 
earlier  part  of  autumn,  from  green  to  a  deep  crimson  or  scarlet. 
The  forests  of  no  other  country  present  so  beautifid  a  variety  of 
coloring  as  our  own  ;  '  even  corresponding  climates  with  the  same 
families  bear  no  com])arison.'  The  diiierence  is  said  to  depend 
"  on  the  greater  transparency  of  our  atmosphere,  and  consequently 
greater  inten.sity  of  the  light ;  for  the  same  cause  which  renders 
a  much  larger  number  of  stars  visible  by  night,  and  which  clothes 
our  flowering  plants  with  more  numerous  llowers,  and  those  of 
peeper,  richer  tints,  gives  somewhat  of  tropical  splendor  to  our 
really  colder  parallels  of  latitude." 


■1 

4 


FOREST  TREES. 


25 


fod  is  very 

he  Leauti- 
hc  Indian 
for  a  teiit. 
ill  a  diain- 

the  liprht- 
glistening 
pray,  willi 
ivo  called 


pccies   are 

ic  climatQ 

wth,  as  is 

valuable 

the  vary- 

cry.     The 

uring  the 

or  scarlet. 

variety  of 

tlie  f^amc 

to  depend 

sequcntly 

'\\  renders 

leli  clothes 

those  of 

lor  to  our 


Of  the  Maple  family  we  may  briefly  notice  only  one  more, 
tlie  Rock  Maple,  "  which  in  all  respects  is  the  most  remarkable 
tree  of  the  family."  Wiiile  young,  it  is  justly  admired  for  its 
ornamental  beauties  as  a  shrub.  When  in  a  state  of  maturity, 
"  for  the  purposes  of  art,  no  native  wood  possesses  more  beauty 
or  a  greater  variety  of  appearance." 

"  In  the  forest  the  Rock  Maple  often  attains  great  height,  and 
produces  a  large  quantity  of  timber.  A  tree  in  Blandford,  which 
V  as  four  feet  through  at  base  and  one  hundred  and  eight  feet 
high,  yielded  seven  cords  and  a  half  of  wood."  It  is  said  that 
the  wood  of  this  tree  may  be  easily  distinguished  from  the  Red, 
or  the  River  Maple,  by  pouring  a  few  drops  of  sulphate  of  iron 
ujjon  it.  This  wood  turns  greenish  ;  that  of  the  two  former 
turns  to  a  deep  blue. 

"  In  Massachusetts,  between  five  and  six  hundred  thousand 
pounds  of  sugar  are  annually  made  from  the  juice  of  the  Rock 
Maple,  valued  at  about  eight  cents  a  pound,"  yielding  a  revenue 
of  about  forty-four  to  fifty  thousand  dollars  per  annum.  Of  the 
saji,  "  the  average  quantity  to  a  tree  is  from  twelve  to  twenty- 
four  gallons  each  season.  In  some  instances  it  is  much  greater. 
A  tiee  in  Bernardstown,  about  six  feet  in  diameter,  favorably 
situated,  produced  in  one  instance  a  barrel  of  sap  in  twenty-four 
liours."  "  Dr.  Rush  cites  an  instance  of  twenty  pounds  and  one 
ounce  of  sugar  having  been  made  within  nine  days,  in  1789, 
from  a  single  tree  in  Montgomery  county,  New  York."  In  an- 
other instance,  thirty-three  pounds  are  said  to  have  been  pro- 
duced from  one  tree  in  one  season.  A  gentleman  from  Lev- 
erett  informs  me  that  in  one  season  he  obtained  from  one  tree 
one  luuidred  and  seventy-five  gallons  of  sap,  which,  if  of  aver 
age  strength,  wouk'  have  made  forty-three  pounds  of  sugar. 

The  following  remarks  upon  the  Sugar  Maple  of  Maine,  from 
the  "  Third  Annual  Report"  of  Dr.  Jackson's  geological  surveys 
in  this  state,  will  be  read  with  interest,  suggesting  profitable 


B 


,Ji 


>^ 


■\'  I 


li. 


so 


in  in '.Ml*   1,1  n;   anm 


Iniils  (()  H(tiM(V  "  TIio  A<M'r  S.irt'liii I  imiiii.  or  Siif>iir  M!i|tl(«,  in  oiio 
oi  lll<>  niosl  lii\ini:iiil  ,'iiitl  Im>;iiiI  iliil  iiiiliv<<  Imfsl  Irrrs  iii  Miniir, 
IIIkI  mIioiiikIs  wlicK'MM  lln'  Soil  iM  ol  f'.ood  (|ii;ili(y.  IIh  iihtoiid- 
injr  s:i|t  IS  vory  noli  in  siio.ir.  winoli  is  vciy  roiolily  oliliunod  l>y 
liioaiiH  ol  a  liij),  liorotj  witli  nil  !in;*ii\'  ii.ill  .in  iiioli  in  dnniiolor, 
into  llio  siipwood  ol  tlio  hoo,  llio  sap  lioiii<r  cidjorli'd  in  tlio 
P|iiin^  oI'iIk'  yoai,  w  Iton  il  liisl  lioj»iiiM  lo  asooiid,  and  Im  loio  lli(» 
loliaf»o  puts  loilli.  It  IS  oiistoniaiv  to  lioa|)  snow  aioiind  tlio 
roots  ov  Hlimips  ol  tiio  troos,  to  provtMit  tln'ir  piitlinj;  loitli  tlioir 
loavos  so  soon  as  tlioy  olliorwiso  wnnld,  lor  tlio  |iiirrs  ol  llio  tico 
|)oi<in  to  Ito  oialiovalotl  as  soon  as  tlio  loiiant"  is  dovolopod,  and 
will  not  run. 

"AlltM-  olilainiii'V  a  (|nanlily  of  Mapio  sap,  it  is  poiiKMJ  into 
lavjio  lion  or  tinnod  coppor  Kotllos.  and  lioilcd  down  to  a  tlindi 
Hinip  ,  and  allor  asoorlainiii«'.  that  it  is  siitiioiont  ly  conoont  ratod 
to  <'VV!^talli/.o  or  firaiii,  it  is  tlirown  into  oasKs  or  vats,  and  w  lion 
tho  siifiar  has  lormod.  iho  iiiolassos  is  diainod  oil  tliroii<'.li  a  pliij;- 
Uolo  slijihlly  ohstiiu'1(>d  Ity  tow.  1)111  litllo  art  is  used  in  (darily- 
injx  iho  sirup,  and  thi>  ohoiiust  would  ro';ar<l  tlio  o|ioratioiis  as 
vovv  vyu\^^  iHid  olnnisv  ;  vol  a  very  ploasanl  siii'ar.  with  a  slij'Jilly 
aoid  tastt>.  is  luado,  and  iho  niolassos  is  ol f\o(>lloiit  flavor,  and 
is  lavfi(dy  iis(>d  during  tho  snmmor  lor  inaKiiifi"  swi'otonod  water, 
\vliieh  is  a   wholosouio  and  dolicituis  liovoraLic 

"  'Plu'  snj^ar  tro«pioiit  ly  I'tnilains  o\idi>  »d  iron,  w  liioli  it  dissolvi'S 
troiw  tlio  riisly  potash  Kottlcs  in  wiiu'li  it  is  ooiiniionly  hoil(>d  down, 
nnd  hoiuM>  it  tnins  tea  IdiicK.  A  iu>at  inanuraoluicr  w  ill  alway.v 
taUo  «Mro  to  soi>nv  out  his  Kottlos  with  vino;;ar  and  sand,  so  tli.it, 
tho  su<::av  may  ho  \vliil(\  llo  will  also  taK(>  caro  not  to  hiirn  lli(» 
siviip  In  lUiiiufi  tho  tin'  toward  the  ond  of  th(>  oporatioii.  H' his 
sirup  is  aoid.  a  littlo  oloar  liiuo-wator  will  salurato  it.  and  th(» 
liino  will  prinoi\)ally  soparato  with  tho  luolassos  or  with  tlu^ 
ec\uu.  Tho  sirup  should  ho  skininnMl  oaroliilly  diiriiio'  the  oper- 
ation.     Il    is  not    wi>rlh  while,  perhaps,  to  deseiihe   tho   pro('(>ss 


I'oUKH'r    TiniKH. 


y? 


^1  !l|)l(\   IH   (tllO 

rs  III  Mmiih', 

lis    iiscriid- 

oIiIiiiiiimI    liy 

III  )li;iiii(>lfr, 

IM'Icil       III       ll|(» 

1(1   Ixluir  IIh) 

IlllMlllll      |||(> 

;.>  liiilli  llicir 
'K  III  I  lie  I  |<M> 
V('lt>llC(|,    illlll 

|iiiiii(mI  into 
n  lo  ;i  lliicic 
I'diicnil  i;il('(| 
s.  iiiul   w  ln>u 

Mi^vli  i<  |'1"M" 
'd  III  cliiiily- 

•  jicr.il  ions  ;is 
il  li  ;i  sliolilly 
I  ll.ivor,  ;ni(l 
Iciicd   Will  or, 

li  il  dissolves 
lioilcd  dow  II, 
will  ;il\\;iyti' 
;;uid,  so  (li;it 
I  to  liiini  [\\o 
tioii.      ir  Ills 

•  il,  niid  llio 
or  with  Iho 
u<x  llic  opcr- 

tlio   [)ro(M}sn 


"'•    '■••'iM.ll.r    H,|u,ir:     l.llf     |(    ,S    ,„.,r..,.||y    ,,,.y    ,,.    ,„,,,,,.     ,V,,,|,,,.    ^„,,_.,^ 
•'"^     "'"'"    "^     ""•     '••••'     •l"Nl.|r.ndilM.d    lo;,rsM.r;,,-    or  ruMI, „..,.•...         h 

uoul.l.  Im.w..v..|.  Ios..  ,(s  ,...,.,il,,,r  '.u'ul   (|;,vor,  vvlnch  now  distiu- 

^r'lislirs   II    fidill    Oldlll.liy    ciiii-   sil(r;ir, 

'■    W'-yr    ,1    ..,■„,.,;,  liy    luM.VVII    I.OVV    |.l .  ,d  („.| ,  v.«    .',,n«    I  ho    {rrovoH   of 

S..;.;.r    iyi;i|,|os,  uo  sliunld,   I  do,,!,!,  ..o,,  |„.  „„„,.  ,.,,,,„,    ,„„,  ,„,j 

'"'''■'■ "''■  ""••"  '"""  "'•>  loivsl,  MS  IS  MOW  1..0  rnw|i,<.nf|y,|„„o. 

"    '■'•   '"'^^'-V"-"-,  .lilli.nll,    lo   s|,an.    ,„y  lorrsl,    InwK    ;„    r|,,uiM^r    a 
';""'   ''.V  '"•-;    I'Nt  .;iovrs  Ml   vvliicli  llioyuhoiind  „i,.r|,|,  I,.,  K|.,'nod 
'''■••'"  ""•  '-..n-|,.|iliM;r  ,,  Hi'  ||„.  wnodi.i;.!..       iVJiiplo-lrros  ,n.',y  also 
'""  ••""•^■'•'••l-  ""d   Will   Imm-oimo    produrlivo    ii:    twmly  m   lliirly 
y.'Ms;    and  il  would  .•oiliiinly  Im- oiio  .d'oiir  iiiosi,  l..-aufir„l  plod-pM 
"I  '<';'..'id  lor  iM.sln.ly  |o|danl,;.ron,,sori\la|dosin  ronvoMionl,  sit- 
"■■'iHms  ii,M.n  oin-  lands,  and  l<,  Imo  lli..  roa,d  ,i,|,.„  will,  iImth.      [ 
'""    '"'•"   "'•■'•    ^"•■''    ••'    P"-'"'.    'l<-.-.mod    ml,.,  odorl.  would    ploaso 
jMddir  /os/r   in    iiioio    nays   ll.an   on..,  an.l   w."   „ii^r|„,  |„.  i„   ,,.„.,, 
disli;.ii.d.is..,l    jiuin   d.-]MMi.l.-,M"o  Oil    llu,  ,.;uu!   ida,iiUli..ns  of   tho 
WosI    Indies. 

"Til.-  roll..u'in-slalisli..s  will  s.-rv.,  as  ;ui  example  oflho  prod- 
"Hs.d'  III,.  Si,.rar  Maple  in  Main.-  ;  and  il,  will  als..  I,e  noted  U.at 
1I'<'  wimie  w..rk  ol-maluno;  Mapl,.  sn^ar  is  e.miplele.l  m  tl.reo  or 
l.Mir  weeks  IVoiii  the  commeiieeuieiit  (•!"  operations. 


"  Al  Ihe  FoiKs  of  111,.  Kenn.d,.Tlc,  tw.dv.,  person.s  made    :j,f;.0(j 
On  No.   I.  L'd  Uan^.'.  on,^  man  and  a  boy  ««         i^'ooo 

'"   l':iriiiiiin|,,„,  ]Vl,..  Tileomb 
"    '"^l"»seow.  Ihirly  raiiiili,.-,s 
"    I'dii^ham,  twenty  lamilies 
Concord,  thirty  I'aniilies 


««    r ' 


<( 

C( 


1,.00() 
10,/500 

D.OOO 
11,000 


'-rilis,  at  twelve  and  a  half  eentn  a  round,  would  bo  worth 


It 


'"ust  be  also  r.Muarked,  that  the  luannfaetnrc  of  Maple 


1 


J    . 


i       !■■' 


28 


FOREST    LIFE    AND 


sugar  is  carried  on  at  a  season  of  the  year  when  there  is  little 
else  to  be  done  ;  and  if  properly-shaped  evaporating  vessels  were 
■used,  a  much  larger  quantity  of  sugar  could  be  made  in  the  sea- 
son." 


CHAPTER  III. 

Beech-troes — Purity,  Size,  Fruit — Efforts  of  Bears  after  the  Nut — The  Uses 
to  which  its  Leaves  are  ai)propriaiC(l — Mr.  Lauder's  Testimony,  &c. — Use 
of  Wood — Singular  Exemption — The  novel  Appearance  of  the  Leaves  of  a 
Species  in  Germany. — Chestnut-tree — Remarkable  one  ou  Mount  iEtna. — 
Balm  ot  Gilead. — Willow. — Ash. — Basswood,  or  Ticl-tree. — The  Poplar. 
—The  Hemlock — Beauties  of  its  Foliage — Uses. — Hickory. — The  Fir-tree. 
— Spruce-tree — Its  conical  Form — Uses. — American  Larch — Success  of  the 
Dukes  of  Athol  in  planting  it  on  the  Highlands  of  Scotland. 

The  Beech  is  a  tree  of  no  ordinary  interest ;  first,  as  being 
more  free  from  impurities  than  any  tree  with  which  we  are  ac- 
quainted. The  bark  is  very  clean  and  smooth,  of  a  light  lead 
color,  sprinkled  with  fine  dots  of  black,  so  that  it  has  a  grayish 
appearance.  It  attains  the  height  of  sixty  to  eighty  feet.  The 
lower  branches  are  thrown  out  in  a  horizontal  attitude,  while  the 
upper  ones  assume  somewhat  of  an  erect  position.  The  leaves 
are  of  graceful  proportions,  and  profuse,  forming  a  dense  shade. 
Some  seasons  this  tree  produces  an  abundance  of  nuts,  which 
grow  in  round,  prickly  burrs,  very  similar  to  chestnuts.  The 
nuts  are  triangular  in  shape,  and  supply  the  pigeoa,  partridge, 
squirrels,  bears,  and  other  animals  with  food.  The  squirrel  will 
hoard  up  in  his  little  burrow  many  quarts  of  these  nuts,  where  he 
cats  them  at  his  leisure  during  the  seasons  of  winter  and  spring. 
It  is  quite  amusing  to  sec  the  little  fellows  repeat  their  visits  to 
their  underground  habitations,  or  leap  from  branch  to  branch, 


m 


4 


■1 


FOREST    TREE3. 


29 


ere  is  little 

'essels  were 

in  the  sca- 


nt— The  Uses 
iny,  Sec. — Use 
lio  Leaves  of  a 
loiint  iEtiia. — 
—The  Poplar. 
-The  Fir-tree. 
•Success  of  the 

t,  as  being 
we  arc  ac- 

light  lead 
IS  a  grayish 
feet.     The 
c,  while  the 
The  leaves 
ense  shade, 
nuts,  which 
nuts.     The 
,  partridge, 
quirrel  will 
s,  where  he 
and  spring, 
eir  visits  to 

to  branch, 


witli  their  cheeks  stuficd  nearly  to  bursting  with  the  precious 
13ccch-nut.  The  Beech  docs  not  dispense  its  IVuit  until  after  se- 
vere frosts  occur,  when  the  burr  either  opens  or  drops  from  tho 
limb  where  it  grew  ;  in  the  former  case,  after  a  smart  frost  at 
night,  the  early  morning  breeze  shakes  them  from  their  elevated 
])Osition,  when  they  come  rattling  down  upon  the  dry  leaves  like 
showers  of  hail.  Impelled  by  hunger,  bears  often  climb  and 
gather  the  nut  before  it  is  ripe.  I  have  frequently  seen,  during 
my  backwoods  excursions,  the  topmost  limbs  broken  off  and  pulled 
in  toward  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  some  of  them  three  inches  in  di- 
ameter, until  the  whole  of  the  top  branches  were  furled  in,  form- 
ing a  tufted  circle  fifty  feet  in  air. 

Burned  and  cracked,  the  Beech-nut  makes  a  very  good  substi- 
tute for  cofiec.  "  The  leaves  were  formerly  used  in  Britain,  and 
are  to  this  day  in  some  parts  of  Europe,  for  fdling  beds."  Evelyn 
says  that  "  its  very  leaves,  which  form  a  natural  and  most  agree- 
able canopy  all  the  summer,  being  gathered  about  the  fall,  and 
somewhat  before  they  are  much  frost-bitten,  afford  the  best  and 
the  easiest  mattresses  in  the  world  to  lay  under  our  quilts  in- 
stead of  straw  ;  because,  besides  their  tenderness  and  loose  lying 
together,  they  continue  sweet  for  seven  or  eight  years  long  ;  be- 
fore which  time  straw  becomes  musty  and  hard.  They  are  used 
by  divers  persons  of  quality  in  Dauphine,  and  in  Switzerland  I 
have  sometimes  lain  on  them  to  my  very  great  refreshment.  So 
as  of  this  tree  it  may  properly  be  said, 

" '  The  woods  a  house,  the  leaves  a  bed.' " 

"  "We  can,"  says  Sir  Thomas  Dick  Lauder,  "  from  our  own  ex- 
perience, bear  testimony  to  the  truth  of  what  Evelyn  says  hero 
as  to  the  excellence  of  Beech  leaves  for  mattresses.  We  used  al- 
ways to  think  that  the  most  luxurious  and  refreshing  bed  was 
that  M'hich  prevails  universally  in  Italy,  and  which  consists  of 
an  absolute  pile  of  mattresses  filled  with  the  clastic  spathc  of  tho 


U\ 


i ;  ♦ 


H  I 


80 


FOREST    LIFE    AND 


Indian  corn — which  beds  have  the  advantage  of  being  soft  as 
well  as  elastic — and  we  have  always  found  the  sleep  enjoyed  on 
them  to  be  peculiarly  sound  and  restorative.  But  the  beds  nuide 
of  Beech  leaves  are  really  not  a  whit  behind  them  in  these  qual- 
ities, while  the  fragrant  smell  of  green  tea  which  the  leaves  re- 
tain is  most  gratifying." 

"  The  wood  of  the  Beech  is  preferred  to  all  other  wood  for  plane 
stocks,  saw  handles,  and  cylinders  used  in  polishing  glass. 

"  Botanists  are  unable  to  fmd  more  than  one  kind  of  Beech,  be- 
lieving that  the  distinctions  of  '  white^  and  '  rcrr  Beech  in  com- 
mon use  among  the  people  describes  but  one  sjiec'cs. 

The  Beech  is  said  never  to  be  struck  by  lightning.  In  trav- 
eling through  a  forest  country,  many  trees  of  a  diflerent  species, 
such  as  the  Oak,  and,  more  commonly  than  any  tree  within  my 
observation,  the  Hemlock,  may  be  seen  riven  by  lightning,  but 
never  the  Beech. 

"  A  most  remarkable  species  of  the  Beech  is  said  to  have  been 
discovered  by  accident  in  Germany.  In  early  spring,  when  the 
leaves  of  the  purple  Beech  are  agitated  by  the  wind,  during  bright 
sunshine,  their  clear  red  gives  the  tree  the  appearance  of  being 
on  fire  :  an  eflcct,  Bosc  observes,  so  truly  magical,  that  it  is 
scarcely  credible  by  those  who  have  not  seen  it." — Loudon. 

THE  CHESTNUT-TREE. 

This  tree  is  distinguished  by  the  rapidity  of  its  growth  and  the 
excellence  of  its  wood  for  posts  and  rails — the  latter  lasting  half 
a  century — the  good  quality  of  the  nut  it  bears,  and  the  age  and 
size  to  which  it  attains. 

"  8ome  of  the  most  remarkable  trees  of  Europe  are  Chestnut- 
trees.  On  Mount  JEtna  is  the  famous  Castagno  di  cento  cavalli, 
BO  called  from  its  having  sheltered  a  hundred  mounted  cavaliers. 
Brydon  found  this,  in  1770,  two  hundred  and  four  feet  in  circum- 
ference, and  it  had  the  appearance  of  five  distinct  trees.     A  cen- 


fW 


FOREST    TUl'Rrf. 


Ul 


ii<^  soft  as 
LMijoycd  on 
beds  iiiiide 
those  qual- 
leaves  re- 

d  for  plane 
iass. 

Beech,  be- 
3h  in  com- 

In  trav- 
snt  species, 
within  my 
itning,  but 

have  been 
when  the 

ring  bright 

of  being 

hat  it  is 

7udon. 


h  and  the 
sting  half 
e  ago  and 

Chestniit- 
V>  cavallif 
cavaliers. 
11  circum- 
A  cen- 


tury bei'ore,  wlien  seen  by  Kirchor,  they  were  united,  so  that  prob- 
ably it  liad  been  one  tree.  The  Forworth  Chestnut,  in  Eugland, 
was  fifty-two  feet  in  girth  in  IStJO,  when  measured  by  Strutt. 
Near  iSauserre,  in  France,  is  a  tree  of  more  than  ten  feet  in  di- 
ameter at  six  feet  from  the  ground.  It  is  supposed  to  be  a  thou- 
sand years  old." 

The  largest  measurements  given  of  the  Chestnut  in  this  coun- 
try are  of  one  in  Bolton,  Avith  an  erect,  undivided  trunk  forty  or 
iifty  feet  ;  three  feet  from  the  ground  it  measured  seventeen  feet 
in  c'ireundereuce. 

"  Southeast  of  Monument  Mountain,  near  the  road  leading  to 
Shofheld,  in  a  pasture,  an  old  Cliestuut  measured,  in  (September, 
18-1  1,  *  at  tlie  ground,  thirty  feet  two  inches  in  circumference  ;  at 
f()\u'  feet,  twenty-one  feet  in  circumference  :  the  branches  extend- 
ed sixty  feet.' " 

The  Balm  of  Gilead,  the  Willow,  of  which  there  are  twenty- 
one  species,  the  Ash  and  Bass-wood,  tlie  Poplar  and  Hemlock,  all 
ailbrd  specimens  of  great  magnitude,  as  well  as  possess  properties 
of  much  value  ;  to  which  list  we  may  add  the  Hickory,  chiefly 
for  the  great  variety  of  valuable  purposes  to  which  the  wood  is 
ap])ropriated.  •  "  Few  trees  contribute  so  much  to  the  beauty  of 
woods  in  autumn  ;  the  colors  of  all  at  that  season  are  rich,  and 
each  species  has  its  own.  The  fruit  of  some  of  the  species  in  its 
wild  state  vies  with  the  best  of  foreign  nuts." 

THE  FIR-TREE. 

"  In  its  native  forests  the  Fir-tree  varies  from  two  to  ten  feet 
in  diameter,  and  from  one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  eighty 
feet  in  height.  A  stump  is  mentioned  as  still  found  on  the  Co- 
lumbia River,  which  measures  forty-eight  feet  in  circumference 
at  three  feet  from  the  ground,  exclusive  of  its  very  thick  bark." 


-mm 


It 


I 


i» 


i  » 


h 


i\ 


I 


32 


FOREST    LIFE    AND 


THE  srUUCE-TUKE. 

This  tree  presents  a  tapering  trunk,  witli  a  top  of  niatliemat- 
ical  exactness,  a  regular  cone.  They  attain  to  the  heiglit  of  sev- 
enty or  one  hundred  feet,  measuring  at  the  base — tiie  largest  I 
have  ever  seen — about  eight  feet  in  cireunilerence.  Lightness, 
strength,  and  elasticity  are  the  distinguishing  (jualities  of  this 
wood,  and,  owing  to  this,  it  is  extensively  used  in  ship-building, 
and  the  frame- work  of  houses. 

The  Hemlock  is  a  large  tree,  often  measuring  lifleen  leet  in 
circumference  at  the  base  ;  the  column  rises  to  an  elevation  of 
from  seventy  to  one  hundred  feet ;  it  holds  its  size  renuirkably 
luitil  it  reaches  the  principal  limbs,  two  thirds  its  heiglit,  when  it 
tapers  rapidly  to  the  extremity.  Its  foliage  is  beautiful  for  its 
softness,  and  forms  the  principal  ingredient  in  the  bed  of  lumber- 
men. The  use  of  the  boughs  for  brooms  is  known  to  the  good 
country  people  throughout  New  England.  By  persons  of  classic- 
al taste,  it  is  considered  the  most  beautiful  of  the  evergreens. 

The  author  of  Massachusetts  Reports  on  Trees,  kc,  to  whom 
I  am  much  indebted  for  many  of  the  preceding  observations,  re- 
marks of  the  young  Hemlock,  "that  in  the  beginning  of  summer 
each  twig  is  termhiated  with  a  tuft  of  yellowish-green,  recent 
leaves,  surmounting  the  darker  green  of  the  former  year  ;  the  ef- 
fect, as  an  object  of  beauty,  is  equaled  by  very  few  flowering 
shrubs,  and  far  surpasses  that  produced  by  any  other  tree."  The 
bark  is  valuable  in  tanning  leather,  and  makes  excellent  fuel. 
This  tree  grows  in  immense  quantities  in  the  northeast  part  of 
Maine,  often  occupying  acres  of  ground,  to  the  exclusion  of  nearly 
all  other  trees.  Its  wood  is  more  valued  for  boards  than  former- 
ly ;  its  close  grain  and  hardness  fit  it  peculiarly  for  flooring.  "  It 
is  much  used  in  the  large  Atlantic  cities  as  a  substitute  for  stone 
in  the  pavement  of  streets,  for  which  purpose  it  is  sawn  into  hex- 
agonal (six-sided)  blocks  of  eight  inches  in  thickness,  and  eight, 
ten,  or  eighteen  inches  in  breadth." 


^ 


rOREST    TREES. 


ns 


luitliemat- 
<^lit  ol  sev- 
Lj  largest  1 
Li<^lituess, 
OS  of  this 
[)-buiidin{,^ 

oil  Ibct  ill 
ovation  ot 
oiiiarkably 
it,  wliou  it 
iful  for  its 
of  luiuber- 
0  the  good 
i  of  classic- 
greens. 
,  to  whom 

ations,  re- 

"  summer 

en,  recent 
;  the  ef- 

fiowering 
te."     The 

lent  fuel. 

st  part  of 
of  nearly 

in  former- 


nig. 


It 


for  stone 

into  hex- 

and  eight, 


"  The  An)crican  Larch,  known  very  generally  in  New  England 
by  the  aboriginal  name  of  Hackmatack,  is  sometimos  known  to 
attain  an  elevation  of  seventy  foot,  but  does  not  usually  oxcood 
forty  or  fifty  feet."  It  has  crowded  tufts  of  leaves,  not  unlike 
those  of  the  .Spruce  or  Pino,  much  shorter  than  those  of  the  latter, 
and  more  slender  and  graceful  than  those  of  the  former,  and  of 
lighter  green,  so  disposed  on  the  ends  of  the  branches  as  to  make 
the  foliage  of  the  tree  th"  lightest  of  all  the  forest  trees,  espe- 
cially when  compared  with  the  great  stronglh  of  the  tree  itself. 
"  Late  in  autumn  they  turn  to  a  soft,  leather-yellow  color,  and  in 
the  fir.'st  days  of  November  fall."  "  It  has  a  straight,  erect,  rap- 
idly-ta])eriiig  trunk,  clothed  with  a  bluish-gray  bark,  rather  rough, 
with  small  roundish  scales."  The  branches  are  numerous,  and 
most  (irmly  attached  to  the  stem,  shooting  out  at  apparently  meas- 
ured distances  from  each  other,  generally  in  a  hori/ontiil  j)osi- 
tion,  which  makes  its  ascent  quite  as  convonieni  as  a  ladder  ;  and, 
as  it  grows  mostly  on  open  or  meadow  land,  it  is  often  climbed 
hy  timher-hunters,  aiibrding  a  good  })rospect  of  the  forest  on  the 
op])osito  side  of  the  meadow  or  intervales. 

The  wood  of  the  Hackmatack  is  distinguished  by  the  following 
qualities  :  "  Close-grained,  compact,  of  reddish  color,  remarkable 
for  its  great  weight,  strength,  and  durability,"  the  latter  even 
being  greater  than  the  Oak.  "  On  these  accounts  it  is  preferred 
before  all  other  woods  for  knees,  beams,  and  top  timbers  in  ship- 
building." 

The  Larch  is  extensively  cultivated  in  Europe,  particularly  in 
Scotland.  Though  in  America  it  is  most  generally  found  in  low 
meadow  land,  where  is  depth  of  soil  and  plenty  of  moisture,  it 
has  nevertheless  "  the  property  of  flourishing  on  surfaces  almost 
without  soil,  thickly  strewn  with  fragments  of  rocks,  on  the  high, 
bleak  sides  and  tops  of  hills,  where  vegetation  scarcely  exists." 

The  following  account  of  the  experiments  made  by  the  Dukes 
of  Athol,  on  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  is  so  encouraging  and 

13  :j 


f*"* 


ri 


»  ' 


I 


;  I 


I  r,  H 


34 


FOREST    LIFE    AND 


deeply  intercsliii^,  that,  althoug^li  lonf:f,  I  insert  it,  liopiiip;  the  ex- 
ample may  be  followed  in  appropriate  positions  iu  this  country: 
"  The  estates  ol'  the  Dukes  of  Athol  are  in  the  north  of  Scot- 
land, in  the  latitude  of  nearly  50^  north.  Jiutwcen  1710  and 
17o0,  James,  duke  of  Athol,  planted  more  than  twelve  hundred 
Larch-trees  in  various  situations  and  elevations,  for  the  pur})ose 
of  trying  a  species  of  tree  then  new  in  Scotland.  In  175*.)  he 
planted  seven  hundred  Larches  over  a  space  of  twenty-nine  Scotch 
acres,  intermixed  with  other  kinds  of  forest  trees,  with  the  view 
of  trying  the  value  of  the  Larch  as  a  timber  tree.  This  planta- 
tion extended  up  the  face  of  a  hill  from  two  hundred  to  four 
hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  The  rocky  ground  of 
which  it  was  composed  was  covered  with  loose  and  crumbling 
masses  of  mica  slate,  and  was  not  worth  above  £'i  a  year  alto- 
gether. Before  he  died,  in  1761,  he  was  satisfied  of  the  supe- 
riority of  the  Larch  as  a  timber  over  otlier  firs,  even  in  trees  only 
eighteen  or  nineteen  years  old.  His  successor,  John,  duke  of 
Athol,  first  conceived  the  idea  of  planting  Larch  by  itself  as  a 
forest  tree,  and  of  planting  the  sides  of  the  hills  about  Dunkeld. 
He  planted  three  acres  with  Larches  alone,  at  an  elevation  of  five 
or  six  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  on  a  soil  not  worth 
a  shilling  an  acre.  He  also  planted  over  four  hundred  acres  on 
the  sides  of  hills  before  his  death,  in  1774.  His  son,  Duke  John, 
continuing  the  execution  of  his  father's  plans,  had  planted  in  1783 
279,000  trees.  Observing  the  rapid  growth  and  hardy  nature 
of  the  Larch,  he  determined  to  cover  with  it  the  steep  acclivities 
of  mountains  of  greater  altitude  than  any  that  had  yet  been  tried. 
He  therefore  inclosed  a  space  of  twenty-nine  acres  on  the  rigid 
summit  of  Craig-y-barns,  and  planted  a  strip  entirely  with  Larches 
among  the  crevices  and  hollows  of  the  rocks,  where  the  least  soil 
could  be  found.  At  this  elevation  none  of  the  larger  kinds  of 
natural  plants  grew,  so  that  the  grounds  required  no  previous 
preparation  of  clearing.     This  plantation  was  formed  in  1785 


I 


FOREST    TllLES. 


35 


[p;  tlic  cx- 

countiy : 

li  oi'  Heot- 

1710  and 

3  hundred 

G  piir])ose 

,  17oU  he 

nc  Scotch 

the  view 

lis  planla- 

id  to  four 

ground  of 

3rumbhng 

year  alto- 

the  supc- 

trccs  only 

.  duke  of 

self  as  a 

Junkeld. 

ion  of  five 

not  worth 

acres  on 

ike  John, 

in  1783 

y  nature 

cclivities 

eon  tried. 

the  rigid 

Larches 

least  soil 

kinds  of 

previous 

in  1785 


aud  17M).  Ik'tween  that  year  and  1791  he  planted  six  hundred 
and  eighty  acres  witii  000,000  Larches,  the  greater  pa' t  only 
sprinkled  over  the  surface,  on  account  of  the  diliiculty  of  procur- 
ing a  sudicient  number  of  plants.  Besides  a.  plantation  of  sev- 
enty acres  for  the  jjurpose  of  euibellishnient,  he  hail,  in  1700,  ex- 
tended his  plantations  of  Larches  over  an  additional  s|)ace  of  eight 
hundred  acres,  six  hundred  of  whicdi  were  planted  entirely,  though 
thinly,  with  Larch.      These  took  800,000  plants. 

"Observing,  with  satisfaction  and  admiration,  tlie  luxuriant 
growth  of  the  Larch  in  all  situations,  and  its  hardihood  even  in 
the  most  exposed  regions,  the  duke  resolved  on  pushhig  entire 
Lardi  jilautations  still  further  to  the  summit  of  the  highest  hills. 

"  lie  therefore  determined  to  cover  with  Larch  sixteen  hund- 
red Scotch  acres,  situated  from  nine  hundred  to  twelve  hundred 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Its  soil,  presenting  the  most 
barren  aspect,  was  strewed  over  thickly  with  fragments  of  rock, 
and  vegetation  of  any  kind  scarcely  existed  upon  it.  '  To  en- 
deavor to  grow  ship-timber,"  writes  the  duke,  "  among  rocks  and 
shivered  fragments  of  schist,  such  as  I  have  described,  would 
have  appeared  to  a  stranger  extreme  folly,  and  money  thrown 
away;  but,  in  the  year  1^00,  I  had  for  more  than  twenty-five 
years  so  watched  and  admired  the  liardihood  and  the  strong  veg- 
etative powers  of  the  Larch,  in  many  situations  as  barren  and  as 
rugged  as  any  part  of  this  range,  though  not  so  elevated,  as  quite 
satisfied  me  that  I  ought,  having  so  fair  an  opportunity,  to  seize  it.* 

"  Having  now  no  doubt  whatever  of  the  successful  growth  of 
the  Larch  in  very  elevated  situations,  the  duke  still  further  pur- 
sued liis  object  of  covering  all  his  mountainous  regions  with  that 
valuable  wood.  Accordingly,  a  space  to  the  northward  of  the 
one  last  described,  containing  two  thousand  nine  hundred  and 
fifty-nine  Scotch  acres,  was  immediately  inclosed,  and  planted  en- 
tirely with  Larch. 

"  This  tract,  lying  generally  above  the  region  of  broom,  furze, 


'li 


30 


Foil  F.ST    MFF.    ANF)    FORFST    TRKF,!^. 


I. 


. 


V  I 


l>  '    I'll 


juuipor,  and  loiipf  liealh,  rt-qnircd  no  artificial  clearing,'.  Au  im- 
j)rove(l  inodo  oi' ])laiilin^'  was  einploycil  lioic,  lliat  of  usinj.''  yoimj^ 
jdanlH  only,  two  or  three  years'  seedlintrs,  put  into  the  ground  by 
means  of  an  instrument  invented  by  the  duko  instead  of  the  com- 
mon spado. 

"In  l!?'2l,  the  growth  of  the  Larch  in  this  last  tract,  called  Loch 
Ordic  Forest,  having  greatly  exceeded  the  sanguine  hopes  and 
expectations  of  the  duke,  ho  determined  on  adding  to  it  an  ex- 
tensive adjoining  tract,  consisting  of  two  thousaiul  two  hundred 
and  thirty-one  Scotch  acres,  denominated  Loch  Hoishnie.  Tho 
preparations  of  fencing,  clearing  (where  that  was  necessary),  mak- 
ing roads,  and  procuring  i»lants  from  dillerent  nurserymen,  occu- 
pied tho  time  till  October,  IS^-I,  when  the  planting  commenced, 
and  was  carried  on  in  such  good  earnest  that  the  whole  was  ilu- 
ished  by  December,  lb2G. 

**  Tho  planting  of  this  forest  appears  to  have  terminated  the 
labors  of  the  duke  in  planting,  lie  and  his  predecessors  had 
planted  more  than  fourteen  millions  of  Lanh  plants,  occupying 
over  ten  thousand  English  acres.  It  has  been  estimr",.<'d  that 
the  whole  forest  on  mountain  ground,  jjlanted  entirely  with  Larch, 
about  six  thousand  five  hundred  Scotch  acres,  will,  in  seventy- 
two  years  from  the  time  of  planting,  be  a  forest  of  timbci  fit  for 
building  the  largest  ships.  Before  being  cut  down  for  this  pur- 
pose, it  will  have  been  thinned  to  about  four  hundred  trees  to  an 
acre.  Supposing  each  tree  to  yield  fifty  cubic  feet  of  timber,  its 
value,  at  a  shilling  a  foot  (one  half  the  present  value),  will  give 
£1000  an  acre,  or,  in  all,  a  sum  of  £0,500,000  sterling."^ 

*  Reports  ou  Trees  and  Shrubs  of  Massachusetts. 


,1  I 


All  im- 

\\\rr  yoimg 

uMouiul  by 

the  coiri- 

llc'd  Loch 
luipes  and 
it  an  ex- 
)  lnuidrod 
lio.  The 
iry),  niak- 
leii,  occu- 
iimeneed, 
0  was  fin- 

nated  the 

ssors  liad 

)erupymg 

vcd  that 

Ji  Larch, 

scvcnty- 

K'l  fit  for 

this  i)iir- 

•es  to  an 

mber,  its 

will  give 

ir."# 


THE  PINE-TREE,  OR  FOREST  LIFE. 


PAIIT  II. 

CHArTER   I. 

The  IMiiL's. — Wliite  I'liies:  rank  clniniod  for  this  Variety. — Prediloctiniis.— 
Coiiipiiristm  iiiHlitiitcd. — I'itcli  and  Norway  I'iiicH. — Wiiito  I'iix'. — Miipf- 
iiitudc. — New  York  I*iut'«. — Lamherl's  riuo  on  Nortljwest  Coast. — Vuriu- 
ties. — Its  Rank. — Great  variety  of  pnritoses  to  which  it  is  devoted. — Groat 
rino  near  Jack.son  Lake. — Capital  Invested. — Hands  employed  on  tho 
Penobscot. 

Aftkil  the  fbregoiiif?  hrief  notice  of  some  of  the  most  interest- 
ing trees,  we  come  at  length  to  consider  that  species  which  con- 
stitutes the  theme  of  the  following  pages. 

Tiie  Pine  has  been  appropriately  called  the  Monarch  of  tho 
Forest.  Taken  all  in  all,  it  is  the  crowning  master-piece  of  all 
woody  plants.  This  avowal  is  made  in  full  view  of  what  has 
been  said  respecting  other  specimens  of  the  vegetable  kingdom. 
From  early  education,  we  are  accustomed  to  regard  some  things 
as  before  others  in  point  of  merit,  whether  truth  in  the  case  would 
support  our  notions  or  not. 

For  trees  we  have  our  preferences.  There  is  much  of  interest 
in  every  development  of  nature — much  to  admire,  especially  in 
the  grandeur,  the  picturesque  beauty,  and  sublimity  of  large  for- 
est trees.  These  things  are  so  clearly  defined  in  the  mind  of  the 
botani.st — so  many  excellencies  does  he  discover  in  each  genus, 
and  every  species  of  the  respective  families,  that  each  succeeding 
description  seems  to  place  the  last  before  every  preceding  one. 


38 


I. 


H  ■ 


U'. 


>< 


S:i 


THE    riNE-TREE,   OR 


Mankind,  prelly  p'onorally,  are  disposed  to  place  the  Oak  at 
the  head  of  the  vegetable  kingdom,  and  it  is  crowned  monarch  of" 
the  forest. 

I  was  reared  among  the  noble  Pines  of  Maine,  nestled  in  my 
cradle  beneath  their  giant  forms,  and  often  has  the  sighing  wind 
made  music  that  has  calmed  me  to  repose  as  it  gently  ])layed 
through  their  tasseled  boughs.  Often  have  I  been  filled  with 
awe  as  I  gazed  upon  their  massive  trunks  and  raised  my  eye  to 
their  cloud-swept  tops. 

When  a  child,  even,  I  could  never  read  the  following  eulogy 

on  the  Oak  without  a  fit  of  jealousy  : 

"  The  Oak  for  graiielenr,  sU-onglli,  and  uol)lo  sizo 
Excels  all  tiees  which  in  the  forest  grow." 

Of  the  truth  of  this  sentiment  I  could  never  feel  persiuuled  ;  in 
fact,  in  only  one  particular  is  this  true.  In  strength  the  Oak  ex- 
cels, but  in  towering  grandeur  and  massive  diameter  the  Piue 
far  exceeds  the  Oak,  and  indeed  all  other  North  American  trees. 
Properly  there  are  but  three  species  of  the  Pine.  1.  The  AA'liite 
Pine.  2.  Pitch  Pine.  3.  The  Norway,  or  Red  Pine,  as  it  is 
sometimes  called.*  The  Red  Pine  is  remarkable  for  its  tall 
trunk  ;  it  sometimes  rises  eighty  feet  before  it  puts  out  a  limb. 
I  recollect  cutting  one  on  the  Mattawamkeag  River,  which  dis- 
embogues into  the  Penobscot,  eighty-two  feet  before  reaching  a 

*  "  With  very  few  exceptions,  the  Pines  are  monoecious  (having  the  male 
and  female  flowers  on  the  same  tree).  The  yellow  pollen,  which  is  very 
abundant,  often  falls  in  such  quantities  upon  tlie  brandies  and  leaves  below, 
and  upon  the  neighboring  plants,  us  to  cover  them  ;  anil  being  as  light  and 
fine  as  dust,  it  has  been  sometimes  carried  by  the  wind  from  a  forest  of  I'inca 
and  spread  upon  the  ground  at  a  great  distance.  This  atTords  a  probable  ex- 
planation of  the  stories  which  have  been  told,  and  which  have  been  regard- 
ed with  superstition  or  incredulity,  of  showers  of  sulphur." 

Lambert,  des<-ribing  the  common  Scotch  Kir,  says,  "  The  pollen  is  some- 
limes  in  spring  carried  away  by  the  wind  in  such  quantities  as  to  alarm  the 
ignorant  with  the  notion  of  its  raining  brimstone." 


# 


FOREST    LIFE. 


39 


he  Oak  at 
iionarch  of 

lied  ill  iny 
^Iiiii^  wind 
lily  ])layL'd 
iillcd  with 
iuy  eyo  to 

ng  eulogy 


iiadfd  ;  in 
10  Oak  ex- 
'  the  Pine 
on II  lives, 
'lie  AYhite 

as  it   is 
r  its  tall 

a  limb, 
liieii  dis- 
achiiig'  a 

tho  innlo 
cb  is  vt'iy 
cs  below, 
light  juicl 
5t  of  Tines 
)bab]e  ex- 
Mi  regard. 

is  soine- 
ilunn  the 


limb.     They  are  sometimes  found  one  hundred  feet  in  height  and 
four  feet  in  diameter. 

The  Pitch  Pine  is  inferior  to  the  red  in  size.  The  largest  meas- 
urements  I  have  ever  seen  give  to  one  a  diameter  of  two  and  a 
half  feet,  and  ninety  feet  height  ;  to  another  a  girth  of  seven  feet 
at  the  ground,  and  eighty  feet  height.  This  Pine  is  ehielly  val- 
ued for  the  exeellenee  of  its  fuel ;  and  for  generating  steam  in 
"working  engines  it  is  preferable  to  any  other  wood.*  Fonneily, 
in  some  parts  of  the  country,  it  was  found  mucli  larger  than  it 
now  is.  "  Men  arc  living  in  Massachusetts  and  Maine  who  re- 
member tliat  it  was  not  uncommon  to  find  them  of  more  than  a 
hundred  feet  in  height  and  four  or  five  feet  in  diameter." 

At  })resent  the  White  Pine  is  altogether  the  most  iin])ortant  of 
tho  species.  In  New  England,  particularly  in  the  northern  part, 
it  is  often  found  to  measure  one  hundred  and  lifty  feet  in  height. 

It  is  said  that  not  many  years  since  jiines  were  ioiuid  in  the 
eastern  i)art  of  New  York  which  measured  two  hundred  and  iorty 
leet  in  height.  "Lambert's  Pine,  on  the  Northwest  (.oast,  is 
fonnd  growing  to  tlic  height  of  two  hundred  and  thirty  feci,  and 
Douglas's  Pine,  in  the  same  region,  the  loftiest  tree  known,  has 
been  said  to  exceed  three  hundred  feet."  The  tiaveler  quoted 
above  describes  one  of  the  following  dimensions  :  "  One  specimen, 
which  had  been  blown  down  by  the  wind — and  this  was  certain- 
ly not  the  largest  which  I  saw — was  of  the  following  dimen- 
sions :  its  entire  length  was  two  hundred  and  llfleen  feet  ;  its  cir- 
cumference, three  feet  from  the  ground,  was  fiity-seveii  leet  iiino 
inches  (nineleen  feet  three  inches  in  diameter)  ;  and  at  one  hund- 
red and  thirty-four  feet  from  the  ground  it  was  seventeen  leet 
five  inches"  in  circumference,  or  about  six  feet  in  diameter. f 

*  The  iuiinniif  of  lliin  wond  !nnm!illy  roiisinned  on  lh(>  rail-ntiuls  in  M;Hsa. 
chnselts  is  viiliieil  at  .fiOO. ()()(). 

t  Since  writing  the  above,  the  following  acconnt  has  come  to  hand  :  "  Tho 
Bald  Cypres^s  of  Oaxuna  (  7\ixodium  lUntichum)  and  the  famous  Chostnui  uf 


1 

.1, 


r   < 


i 


40 


TIIK    PINE-TREE,  OR 


III  Doctor  Dwight's  Travels  we  have  an  account  of  a  tree  in 
Lancaster,  New  Hampshire,  which  measured  two  hundred  and 
sixty-four  feet  in  length.  "  Fifty  years  ago,  several  trees  grow- 
ing on  rather  dry  land  in  Blandiord,  measured,  after  they  were 
felled,  more  than  thirteen  rods  and  a  half,  or  two  hundred  and 
twenty-three  feet  in  length." 

1  have  worked  in  the  forests  among  this  timber  several  years, 
have  cut  many  hundreds  of  trees,  and  seen  many  thousands,  but 
have  never  found  one  larger  than  the  one  I  felled  on  a  little 
stream  which  emptied  into  Jackson  Lake,  near  the  head  of  Bas- 
kahegan  stream,  in  the  eastern  part  of  Maine.  This  was  a 
"Pumpkin"  Pine;  its  trunk  was  as  straight  and  handsomely 
grown  as  a  molded  candle,  and  measured  six  feet  in  diameter 
iour  feet  from  the  ground,  without  the  aid  of  spur  roots.  It  was 
about  nine  rods  in  length,  or  one  hundred  and  forty-four  feet. 


'  1 


i 


i 


JEtna.  have  been  often  cited  as  the  giants  of  the  vegetable  kingdom.  Bnt 
these  sovereigns  are  detln'oned,  and  put  into  the  second  I'ank  by  those  lately 
discovered  in  Tasmania,  which  leave  far  behind  them  those  antique  monu- 
ments of  nature.  Last  week  I  went  to  see  the  two  largest  trees  jxistirig  in 
the  world.  Both  of  them  are  on  the  border  of  a  small  stream  tril)utary  to 
the  river  of  Northwest  Bay,  in  the  rear  of  Mount  Wellington.  They  are  of 
the  species  named  there  Swamp  Gum ;  I  and  my  companions  (five  of  us) 
measured  them.  One  of  them  had  fallen;  we  therefore  easily  obtained  its 
dimensions.  Wo  found  its  body  two  lumdred  and  twenty  feet  from  the 
ground  to  tho  first  branch.  The  top  had  bi'oken  oflf  and  partly  decayed,  but 
we  ascertained  tho  entire  height  of  the  tree  to  have  been  certainly  three 
hundred  feet.  We  found  the  diameter  of  the  base  of  it  to  be  thirty  feet,  and 
at  the  first  branch  twelve  feet.  Its  weight  wo  estimated  to  be  four  hundred 
and  forty  tons.  The  other  tree,  now  growing  without  the  least  sign  of  de- 
cay, resembles  an  immense  tower  rising  among  the  humble  Sassafras-trees, 
although  very  largo  in  fact.  Tho  Gum-tree  at  three  feet  above  the  ground 
measured  one  hundred  and  two  feet  in  circumference.  In  tho  space  of  a 
square  mile,  I  think  there  were  not  less  than  ono  hunihed  of  these  trees, 
none  less  than  forty  feet  in  circumference.  It  must  require  several  thousand 
yef^rs  to  produce  the  largest  quo." — Revue  Horiicole. 


f 


FORF.ST    Lll'K. 


11 


)f  a  tree  in 
mdred  and 
trees  grow- 
they  were 
mdred  and 

eral  years, 
:sands,  but 
m  a  little 
ad  of  Bas- 
ils was  a 
indsornely 
diameter 
>•  It  was 
four  feet, 

dom.    But 

hose  lately 

que  monu- 

jxisling  in 

■ibutaiy  to 

lioy  are  of 

five  of  us) 

Jtained  its 

from  the 

ayetl,  but 

nly  three 

feet,  and 

hundred 

gn  of  de- 

rus-trees, 

a  ground 

)ace  of  a 

so  trees, 

thousand 


about  sixty-five  feet  of  which  was  free  of  liiiib.s,  and  relaiiu'd  its 
diameter  remarkably  well.  I  was  employed  about  one  hour  and 
a  quarter  in  felling  it.  The  afternoon  was  beautiful ;  every  tiling 
was  calm,  and  to  me  the  circumstances  were  deeply  interesting. 
After  chopping  an  hour  or  so,  the  mighty  gianl,  the  growth  of 
centuries,  which  had  withstood  the  hurricane,  and  raised  itself 
in  peerless  majesty  above  all  around,  began  to  tremble  under  the 
strokes  of  a  mere  insect,  as  I  might  a])pear  in  comi)arison  with 
it.  My  heart  palpitated  as  I  occasionally  raised  my  eye  to  its 
jtinnacle  to  catch  the  hrst  indications  of  its  fall.  It  came  down 
at  length  with  a  crash  which  seemed  to  shake  a  hundred  acres, 
while  the  loud  echo  rang  through  the  forest,  dying  away  among 
the  distant  hills.  It  had  a  hollow  in  the  butt  about  the  size  of 
a  barrel,  and  the  surface  of  the  stiunp  was  sufficiently  capacious 
to  allow  a  yoke  of  oxen  to  stand  upon  it.  It  made  five  logs,  and 
loaded  a  six-ox  team  three  times.  The  butt  log  was  so  large 
that  the  stream  did  not  float  it  in  the  spring,  and  when  the  drive 
was  taken  down  we  were  obliged  to  leave  it  behind,  much  to  our 
regret  and  loss.  At  the  boom  that  log  would  have  been  worth 
fifty  dollars. 

Of  the  White  Pine  there  are  varieties,  which  by  some  are 
attributed  to  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  various  locations  in 
which  they  grow.  That  variety  called  sapling  Pine,  bull  sap- 
ling, kc,  usually  grows  on  high,  hard-wood  land,  or  a  mixture 
of  evergreens  and  deciduous  trees  ;  particularly  on  the  boundaries 
which  mark  damp,  low  forests  and  the  lower  border  of  ridges. 
The  pumpkin  Pine  is  generally  found  on  flat  land  and  in  ravines  ; 
also  on  abrupt  ridges,  called  horsebacks,  where  the  forest  is  dense. 

The  sap  or  outside  of  the  sapling  Pine  is  much  thicker  than 
that  of  the  pumpkin  Pine.  I  have  seen  it  more  than  six  inches 
thick  on  the  former,  and  less  than  half  an  inch  on  the  latter. 
This  dillerence  is  accounted  for  by  the  ra])idity  with  \hich  the 
sapling  grows,  and  the  tardiness  with  M'hich  the  swamp  Pine  ma- 


Ill 


i  i 


«  - 


i 
i 

!\     ■ 

f 

■ 


' 


42 


THE    riNE-TREE,   OR 


turcs,  which,  as  before  intimated,  is  to  be  attributed  to  the  dif- 
ference in  their  location. 

Of  course,  we  must  yield  to  the  opinions  of  learned  botanists  ; 
but  while  they  maintain  that  these  two  are  simply  varieties  ol' 
the  same  species,  the  proof  seems  insuflicicnt  to  convince  many 
whoso  daily  occupation  renders  them  most  familiar  with  forest 
trees.  If  the  diii'erence  is  only  attributable  to  soil  and  position, 
then  we  may  reply  that  we  have  found  the  saplinj^  in  all  possi- 
ble locations.  Besides,  there  are  marked  distinctions.  The  «^en- 
cral  contour  differs  much.  The  size,  number,  and  position  of  the 
branches,  the  shape  of  the  trunk,  the  tou<^hness  of  the  wood  in 
the  saplinpf.  and  the  softness  of  that  of  the  pumpkin  Pine,  all  in- 
dicate a  specific  and  essential  diliercnce.  We  have  seen  whole 
groves  of  saplings  on  low,  swampy  land.  The  same  number  of 
saplinf^s  are  generally  much  sounder  than  an  equal  number  of 
soft  Pine. 

The  soft  Pine-tree  holds  its  diameter  to  a  much  greater  length 
than  the  sapling.  I  have  seen  a  log  of  the  former  twenty  feet 
long,  differing  not  more  than  an  inch  and  a  halt"  in  diameter  at 
either  end.  In  a  sapling  log  of  the  same  length  there  would  be 
a  difference  of  several  inches. 

There  is  one  circumstance  in  the  habits  of  this  Pine  worthy  of 
note.  As  a  general  thing,  they  grow  in  clusters  or  communities. 
Indeed,  this  is  a  common  characteristic  of  the  Hemlock,  the  Ce- 
dar, and  the  Hackmatack. 

But  there  is,  however,  a  sort  of  nationality  in  the  local  attitude 
of  the  latter.  While  the  Pines,  growing  in  clusters,  seem  to  con- 
stitute the  aristocracy — families  of  nobility — the  rest  of  the  forest 
seems  to  make  up  the  populace  ;  and  I  may  add,  that  backwoods- 
men arc  accustomed  to  pay  them  the  same  deferential  regard 
above  other  gentlemen  foresters  which  is  awarded  to  superiors  in 
human  society.  Indeed,  the  Pine  has  claims  upon  our  regard, 
not  only  on  account  of  its  unequaled  dimensions,  but  "  from  the 


I 


FOREST   LIFE. 


43 


to  the  dif- 

botaiiisls  ; 
arioties  oi" 
iiicc  many 
vith  forest 
d  Jjosition, 
I  all  possi- 

Tlie  freu- 
tioii  oi"  tho 
e  wood  ill 
ne,  all  in« 
Jen  whole 
umber  of 
umber  of 

er  length 
enty  feet 
meter  at 
would  be 

worthy  of 

nunities. 

the  Ce- 

attitude 
to  con- 

le  forest 

kwoods- 
regard 

triors  in 

regard, 

om  the 


importance  of  its  products  in  naval,  and  especially  in  civil  and 
domestic  architecture,  in  many  of  the  arts,  and  in  some  instances 
in  medicine." 

"  As  it  afibrds  timber  and  boards  of  a  greater  size  than  any 
other  soft-wooded  tree,  and  is  lighter  and  more  li-ec  from  knots, 
it  is  used  in  preference  for  the  masts  of  ships,  for  the  large  beams, 
posts,  and  covering  of  wooden  buildings,  and  for  the  frame- work 
of  houses  and  bridges,  as  well  as  for  clap-boards  and  shingles. 
The  clearness,  softness,  and  beauty  of  this  wood  recommend  it 
for  the  panels  and  frames  of  doors,  for  wainscotings,  for  the  frames 
of  windows,  for  cornices  and  moldings,  and  for  all  the  uses  of  the 
joiner.  As  it  receives  paint  perfectly,  it  is  employed  for  floors 
which  are  to  be  painted.  Varnished  without  paiitt,  it  gradually 
takes  a  yelloM'ish  <  r  light  reddish  color,  and  has  considerable 
beauty.  It  is  exjellent  for  the  carver  in  wood,  and  is  used  for 
tlie  iigure-heads  of  vessels  ;  and  as  it  takes  gilding  well,  it  is  pre- 
ferred for  the  frames  of  looking-glasses  and  pictures." 

Its  importance  may  be  estimated,  also,  from  the  vast  amount 
of  employment  it  h  /nibhes  and  the  revenue  it  produces.  Its 
history  is  full  of  interest  from  the  nour  it  leaves  the  stump  in  tho 
forest,  through  the  various  processes  it  passes  until  taken  from 
the  hold  of  the  ship  and  piled  away  upon  our  market  piers.  The 
amount  of  employment  it  furnishes  to  lumbermen,  mill-men,  raft- 
ers, coasters,  truckmen,  merchants,  and  mechanics,  exceeds  that 
furnished  by  any  other  single  product  in  Maine  or  the  province 
of  New  Brunswick.  On  the  Penobscot  alone  there  are  said  to  bo 
ten  thousand  men  engaged  in  lumbering. 


44 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR 


I'   ,1      .1 
.'1 '  I 

I 


i  ; 

1; 

i 

1 

il 

;.« 

y  1: 

1 

CHAPTER  il. 

The  Pine  tvventy-fivo  Years  ago — Its  rapid  Disappearance. — Explorations. — 
Outfit. — Up-river  J'mrneyiiig. — Its  Distance. — Mode  of"  Nightly  Encamp- 
ment.— Cooking. — Dlrturbed  Slumbers. — Ludicrous  Fright. — Deer. — En- 
counter with  Bears. — W  de  of  E.xploring. — Forest  Observatoiy. — Climbing 
Trees. — The  Emotions  c:\cited  by  the  View. — Necess  ty  of  Compa.ss. — 
Nature's  Compass. — The  Return. — Annoyances  from  niischitn'ous  Bears.— 
Stiunpage. — I'ermits. — Outfit  and  Return. — Crossing  Carrying-places.—. 
A  Strong  Man. — Skill  of  15oatmen. — Item  of  personal  Experi'-nce. — Blind 
Path. — A  Family  in  the  Wilderness. — Tilings  to  be  considered  in  locating 
Camps. 

Allusion  has  been  made  to  the  peculiarity  of  the  Pine-tree 
in  associatin<x  toofcther  in  clusters  or  families.  It  is  now  a  rare 
thing  to  find  a  sufficient  quantity  of  timber  in  one  of  those  clus- 
ters to  meet  the  demands  of  a  team  during  the  usual  period  of 
hauling,  Avhich  is  about  three  months. 

Twenty-five  or  thirty  years  ago,  large  tracts  of  country  wertf 
covered  principally  with  Pine-trees.  Those  tracks  seemed  pur- 
posely located  in  the  vicinity  of  lakes,  large  streams,  and  rivers  ; 
a  winter's  work  could  then  be  made  contiguous  to  improved  por- 
tions of  the  country,  which  rendered  little  previous  exploration 
necessary.  But  the  woodman's  ax,  together  with  the  destructive 
fires  which  have  swept  over  large  districts  from  time  to  time, 
have,  so  to  speak,  driven  this  tree  far  back  into  the  interior  wil- 
derness. In  fact,  the  Pine  seems  doomed,  by  the  avarice  and  en- 
terprise of  the  white  man,  gradually  to  disappear  from  the  bor- 
ders of  civilization,  as  have  the  Aborigines  of  this  country  before 
the  onward  march  of  the  Saxon  race. 

The  diminished  sizo  and  number  of  these  Pine  communities, 


FORKST    IJFE. 


il) 


[>loratioii8 

ly  Encamp- 
-Deer. — Kn- 
• — Cliiijljinfj 
Cum  pass. — 

'US  Boars 

ig-places , 

ice. — Blind 
in  locating 


Pine-tree 
w  a  rare 
lose  clus- 
leriod  of 

try  were 
led  pur- 
rivers  ; 
ved  por- 
loration 
tractive 
o  time, 
ior  wil- 
iiid  en- 
he  bor- 
befbre 

mities, 


near  the  borders  of  civil  and  agricultural  abodes,  added  to  tlie 
fact  that  this  tree  has  been  pursued  to  wild  and  unknown  forest 
regions,  renders  exploring  expeditions  previous  to  the  commence- 
ment of  a  winter's  campaign  absolutely  indispensable,  at  least 
to  insure  success.  This  labor  is  performed,  more  or  less,  at  all 
periods  of  the  year;  but,  perhaps,  the  more  general  and  ajjpro- 
priate  time  is  found  to  be  during  the  earlier  part  of  autumn. 
The  work  of  exi)loring  is  often  performed  during  the  winter,  M'hile 
the  crews  are  on  the  ground,  in  camp.  The  dilliculty  of  trav- 
eling through  deep  snows  is  overcome  by  the  use  of  the  snow- 
shoe,  which  enables  the  wearer  to  walk  upon  the  surface  of  the 
luitrodden  snow.  This  shoe  is  about  three  feet  long  by  sixteen 
inches  wide,  oval  before  and  tapering  to  a  point  behind.  It  is 
simply  a  flat  net-work,  made  from  thongs  oi"  green  hide,  sur- 
rounded by  a  slender  frame  or  bow  of  wood.  This  net-work  is 
fastened,  near  the  middle,  to  the  bottom  of  the  boot,  and  the 
woodman,  throwing  himself  along,  one  side  at  a  time,  with  a 
lengthened  pace-like  stride,  passes  over  the  ground  at  a  rapid 
rate. 

When  the  business  of  timber-hunting  is  deferred  until  autumn, 
the  following  method  is  practiced  :  Two  or  three  men  accus- 
tomed to  the  business  take  the  necessary  provisions,  which  usually 
consists  of  ship-bread,  salt  pork,  tea,  sugar,  or  molasses  ;  for  cook- 
ing utensils,  a  cofice-pot  or  light  tea-kettle,  a  tin  dipper,  some- 
times a  frying-pan,  a  woolen  blanket  or  two  for  bed-clothes,  and 
an  ax,  with  gun  and  ammunition  ;  all  of  which  are  put  on  board 
a  skiff",  if  the  exploration  is  to  be  on  the  St.  Croix,  or  on  a  bateau 
if  on  the  Penobscot  River,  with  two  sets  of  propellers,  setting 
poles  for  rapids,  and  paddles  to  be  used  on  dead  water. 

With  these  slight  preparations,  away  we  start ;  now  making 
our  way  up  the  main  river,  then  shooting  along  up  the  less  ca- 
pacious branches  ;  sometimes  performing  a  journey  of  two  hund- 
red miles  far  into  the  interior,  in  those  solitudes  which  never  be- 


I         ;» 


40 


THE    PINE-TKEE,    OR 


f|       I 


fore,  pcrhajjs,  echoed  wllli  llie  tones  of  the  Avhite  iium's  voice. 
The  location  for  our  nightly  eucanipuienls  are  selected  in  tiiua 
to  make  tlie  necessary  arrangements  for  refreshment  and  repose, 
before  the  darkness  shuts  down  over  the  dense  wilderness  that 
surrounds  us.  Selecting  a  proper  site  near  some  gushing  spring, 
or  where  a  murmuring  streamlet  plays  along  its  r&  ..antic  little 
channel,  we  pitch  our  tent,  which  formerly  consisted  of  a  slender 
frame  of  little  poles,  slightly  covered  on  the  top  and  at  each  end 
with  long  houghs,  the  front  entirely  open,  before  which  burns 
the  watch-fire,  by  whose  light  the  deep  darkness  of  a  forest  night 
is  rendered  more  solemn  and  palpable. 

In  some  instances  a  large  blanket  is  spread  over  the  frame ; 
and  when  there  are  good  reasons  to  expect  rain,  wc  haul  our 
boat  up,  turn  it  bottom  side  up,  and  crawl  beneath  it,  this  prov- 
ing a  sure  protection  from  the  i'alling  rain  or  dew.  Of  late,  small 
portable  tent-coverings  are  used,  which  prove  very  convenient. 

Next  the  evening  meal  is  prepared.  Here  the  tea  is  thor- 
oughly boiled,  in  the  coii'ee-pot  or  tea-kettle,  over  the  little  fire. 
A  thin  slice  of  salt  pork  is  cut,  and,  running  a  sharp  stick  through 
it,  it  is  held  over  the  fire  and  roasted,  being  withdrawn  occa- 
sionally to  catch  the  drippings  on  a  cake  of  pilot  or  ship  bread. 
This  is  a  good  substitute  for  buttered  toast,  the  roasted  pork  mak- 
ing an  excellent  rasher.  Sometimes  we  ate  the  pork  raw,  dip- 
ping it  in  molasses,  which  some  relish  ;  and  though  the  recital 
may  cause,  in  delicate  and  pampered  stomachs,  some  qualms, 
yet  we  can  assure  the  uninitiated  that,  from  these  gross  simples, 
the  hungry  woodsman  makes  many  a  deliciou  meal.  Miar  jnpe 
devotions  (for  little  else  ascends  from  forest  altars,  though  we 
have  sometimes  heard  the  voice  of  prayer  even  in  the  logging- 
swamps),  we  throw  our  weary  limbs  upon  our  boughy  couches 
to  seek  repose  in  the  slumbers  of  night. 

Sometimes  our  slumbers  arc  disturbed  by  the  shrill  whooping 
of  the  owl,  whose  residence  is  chosen  in  those  lonely  solitudes 


FORi:ST    1,1  FK. 


47 


mn  s  voieo. 
ted  ill  tiina 
and  repose, 
eriiess  that 

aiilic  Jitilo 
I  a  slender 
t  caeh  end 
liich  burns 
Diest  niglit 

he  frame ; 

haul  our 
this  prov- 
atc,  small 
venient. 
a-  is  tlior- 

ttle  fire. 

through 
wii  occa- 

1  bread. 
Drk  mak- 
aw,  dip- 
recital 
qualms, 

imples, 

er  2npe 

gh  we 

ogging- 

Jouches 


oopmg 
litudes 


of  d(;nse  woodlands,  where  this  gliostly  wateluiiau  of  the  night 
makes  the  wild  wood  reverberate  with  the  eeho  of  liis  whoo-ho' 
ho-whah-whoo  I  whieli  is  enough,  as  one  has  observed,  to  fright- 
en a  garrison  of  soldiers.  Few  sounds,  1  am  eertain,  so  really 
harmless  in  themselves,  awaken  such  a  thrill  of  terror,  as  it 
breaks  suddenly  upon  the  ear  during  the  stillness  and  loneliness 
of  the  midnight  hour. 

As  I  lay  one  night  encamped  upon  the  banks  of  a  small  stream 
which  contributed  its  mite  to  the  accnimulating  waters  of  iho 
Penobscot  River,  an  o])portiu  ^  presented  itself  of  testing  the 
strength  of  my  nerves.  It  was  during  the  midnight  hour,  when 
even  the  trees  seemed  to  sleep  profoundly.  Not  a  zephyr  moved 
a  twig,  and  the  silence  which  reigned  was  painful.  Rendered 
somewhat  restless  Iroin  the  combined  circumstances  of  the  previous 
day's  labor  and  a  hard  bed,  I  lay  musing  upon  an  account  which 
I  had  formerly  read  of  a  midnight  attack  upon  a  company  of 
militia,  during  the  sanguinary  struggles  of  the  Revolution,  l)y  a 
party  of  savages.  In  the  midst  of  my  revery,  I  fancied  that  I 
could  almost  hear  the  stealthy  footste})S  of  the  wily  Indian,  when 
a  sudden  scream  from  a  tree-top,  nearly  over  the  spot  where  I  lay, 
brought  me  upon  my  feet  at  a  bound.  Seizing  my  gun,  I  looked 
aloft  to  see  if  I  could  discover  the  author  of  my  sudden  fright. 
By  the  light  of  the  fire  which  still  burned  in  the  front  of  the 
tent,  I  discovered  a  pair  of  large  eyes,  resembling  those  of  a  cat. 
In  an  instant  the  woods  echoed  with  the  sharp  report  of  my  gun, 
when  down  came  his  owlship  with  a  summerset  to  the  ground.  I 
have  often  listened  to  the  quaint  old  figure,  "  I  was  not  brought 
up  in  the  woods  to  be  scared  by  an  owl,"  yet  I  think  few  can  listen 
to  the  whooping  of  this  solitaiy  bird  in  the  solemnity  and  still- 
ness of  midnight  without  being  conscious  of  their  susceptibility 
to  emotions  of  fear,  even  though  the  judgment  is  assured  of  the 
absence  of  all  that  could  harm. 

Sometimes  the  tramping  of  timid  deer,  attracted  ]»v  the  wan- 


T 


48 


Tiir,  ri\K-TRF,i:.  or 


^i 


t  I 


ii 


1 1 


iiip-  lif^lit  of  oiiv  Avalch-fivo,  or  some  roving  beast  of  prey,  atlraot* 
c(l  by  the  savory  va|)ors  of  our  evening''  meal,  startle  us  from  our 
slumbers.  "  Once,  wiiib*  ou  a  timber-bunliiirr  exoursioii,"  said  a 
messmate,  "  ou  tiie  east  braueli  of  the  reuf)bseot,  the  ui<rht  beiupf 
very  mild,  and  feeliuf,^  too  much  fali^'ued  to  make  the  usual  prep- 
arations for  security,  wo  built  our  fire  near  the  trunk  of  a  lart^^o 
prostrate  tree.  When  we  laid  doMii  our  heads  were  near  the 
I'allen  tree,  which  protected  us  somewhat  from  the  current  of 
air,  but  we  were  without  coverinj]^,  except  the  spread in<(  branch- 
es of  the  trees.  We  had  not  lain  lon*^  before  we  heard  a  heavy 
tram])inf^  some  little  way  oil'.  It  approached  nearer  and  nearer, 
until  the  aninuil  seemed  directly  upon  us. 

"  As  1  lay  upon  my  back,  I  turned  my  eyes  upward,  when  they 
met  the  full  rrav^Q  of  a  large  bear,  which  stood  with  its  fore  paws 
on  the  log  directly  over  my  head.  In  an  instant  I  sprang  upon 
my  feet,  and,  seizing  a  brand  from  the  fire,  I  hurled  it  after  liim, 
at  the  same  instant  making  the  woods  tremble  with  the  echo  of 
my  voice. 

"Alarmed  at  my  sudden  motions,  and  more  than  all  at  the 
fiery  messenger,  which  emitted  thousands  of  sparks  as  it  whiz- 
zed along  after  him,  glancing  from  tree  to  tree  in  its  course,  at 
each  concussion  emitting  new  volleys  of  fiery  particles,  without 
stopping  to  apologize  for  his  intrusion  upon  our  sleeping  apart- 
ment, he  plunged  into  the  forest  at  full  speed.  By  the  rustling 
of  dry  leaves  and  the  cracking  of  fallen  limbs,  wo  could  hear 
him  a  long  way  oil",  with  unabated  energy  fleeing  from  the  object 
of  his  terror.  Next  morning  we  came  across  an  old  she-bear  and 
her  cubs.  We  had  a  spirited  little  dog  with  us,  who  instantly 
encountered  the  bear  ;  but  one  blow  from  her  paw  completely 
disabled  him,  and  his  injuries  proved  so  serious  that  we  were 
obliged  to  kill  the  little  fellow,  much  to  our  regret,  for,  of  all 
places  in  the  wo-ld,  the  companionship  of  a  good  dog  is  most  val- 
ued in  the  woods.      One  of  our  men  caught  a  cub  ;  it  struggled 


! 


■ey,  alt  rapt' 
IS  Cnnn  our 
ion,"  said  a 
iii<i:lit  being 
usual  pivp- 
:  ot"  a  larfj^e 
ro  near  the 
curvcut  of 
iii<^  branch- 
ird  a  heavy 
and  nearer, 

,  when  they 
ts  fore  paws 
ipranfT  upon 
t  after  liim, 
the  echo  of 


Shooting  Deeu. 


all  at  the 
as  it  whiz- 
course,  at 
s,  without 
ling  apart- 
ic  rustling 
could  hear 
the  object 
le-bear  and 
o  instantly 
completely 
it  we  were 
,  for,  of  all 
s  most  val- 
t  struggled 


r.LACK    LkAH. 


1 

3 

i 


I 


I  ' 


M 


.    it       !< 


p 


POKEST    LIFK. 


.   61 


ami  \vlunt'(l,  wliidi  soon  atlnu'tod  the  aUciition  of  the  old  ouo. 
She  at  onoo  ruslu'd  altor  liim,  and  he  was  soon  plad  to  (Irop  liirf 
prize,  but  not  until  llie  olil  dam  had  nearly  torn  liirf  elolhes  iVoiii 
liis  haek. 

Arriving  at  leiifjlh  upon  or  near  the  territory  to  be  explored, 
we  liaul  our  bateau  safely  on  shore,  and  turn  it  '  '  a  upward. 
Then,  dividiiif^  our  lufr^jajje  into  parcels,  and  ni  '  ,  use  oi  our 
blaukets  for  kiuij)saelvs,  we  bejrin  to  traverse  the  wild  forests,  un- 
iVe(pu'uted  except  by  the  stately  moose,  the  timid  deer,  the  roam- 
ing black  bear,  and  other  wihl  animals  of  less  note,  whom  wo 
fre(|uently  disturb  in  their  solitary  haunts. 

The  uneven  surfaec  of  the  country,  tofjcther  with  the  density 
of  the  forest,  circumscribe  the  rauf^e  of  vision.  To  overcome  this 
im[)e(liment,  we  ascend  into  the  top  of  some  lofty  tree.  Some- 
times extensive  views  of  the  surroundinpf  forest  are  obtained  IVom 
the  side  of  abrupt  ridj^es,  and  IVom  the  top  of  a  llor^rbiwk.  This 
1  alter  is  an  "  extremely  curious  ridti^e,  and  consists  of  sand  and 
jjravel,  built  up  exactly  like  the  embankments  ibr  rail-roads,  the 
slopi^  on  either  side  being  about  30°,  while  it  rises  above  the  siir- 
rouudiu^r  low  laiuls"  from  thirty  to  ninety  feet.  Dr.  Jackson 
speaks  of  ony  in  particular,  between  Weston  and  Houlton,  in  the 
northeastern  part  of  Maine,  "  the  top  of  which  is  jierfectly  level, 
and  wide  enoui^^h  for  two  carriaf^es  to  pass  abreast." 

"  Its  surface  was  orif^iually  covered  with  Maple,  Birch,  and  liard 
Pine-trees,  while  the  low  lands  on  cither  side  are  covered  with 
a  dense  j^rowth  of  Cedars.  I  could  not  help  thinkinrr,  as  I  looked 
upon  this  natural  embankment,  that  it  would  be  easy  for  an  an- 
tiipiarian  to  mistake  this  ridpfo  for  a  work  of  art,  and  to  sup])oso 
that  some  of  the  aborifiinal  inhabitants  of  our  coimtiy  knew  how 
to  annihilate  distance  by  rail-roads.  My  first  impression  respect- 
inji  the  geolofrical  ori<riu  of  this  embankment  was  that  it  was  al- 
luvial, and  formed  the  bank  on  intervcuinf]^  shores  of  two  lakes 
whicli  existed  in  the  low  tracts,  now  covered  with  Cedars  ;  but, 


f 


'*; 


<i 


!.:       K 


I    i 


I  i 


52 


If 


THE    PINE-TREE,   OR 


on  examining  the  nature  of  the  materials  of  which  it  is  com- 
posed, I  heeame  satislied  that  it  belonged  to  the  formation  of 
transported  clay,  sand,  gravel,  and  bowlders,  which  is  called  dihi- 
viiim,  consisting  of  the  loose  fragments  of  rocks  that  were  trans- 
ported by  a  mighty  current  of  water  the  last  time  the  waters 
prevailed  over  the  land.  The  occurrence  of  similar  embankments 
at  Honlton  served  to  confirm  this  opinion,  for  there  they  had  the 
same  north  and  ..juth  direction,  a  coincidence  so  remarkable  that 
it  could  not  be  the  result  o^  chance.  The  Horsebacks  of  New 
Limerick  and  Honlton  are  much  more  elevated"  (as  indeed  they 
are  on  the  banks  or  a  little  removed  from  the  shores  of  the  Mat- 
tawamkeag  River),  "  and  some  of  them  arc  said  to  rise  to  the 
height  of  ninety  feet."  "  I  can  not  stop  to  speculate  on  the  causes 
of  this  transpo!  i  ation  of  loose  materials,  but  I  may  say  that  there 
arc  abundant  proofs,  on  the  whole  face  of  this  continent,  that 
there  has  been  a  mighty  nish  of  waters  over  its  surface  from  llio 
north  and  northwest,  and  that  such  a  current  has  swept  over  the 
highest  mountains  of  Massachusetts." 

When  it  is  necessary  to  obtain  views  from  low  lands,  the  ob- 
structions are  overcome  by  ascending  the  highest  trees.  When 
an  ascent  is  to  be  made,  the  Spruce-tree  is  generally  selected, 
principally  for  the  superior  facilities  which  its  numerous  limbs 
adbrd  the  climber.  To  gain  the  first  limbs  of  this  tree,  which 
are  from  twenty  to  forty  feet  from  the  ground,  a  smaller  tree  is 
undercut  and  lodged  against  it,  clambering  up  which  the  top  of 
the  {Spruce  is  reached.  In  some  cases,  when  a  very  elevated  po- 
sition is  desired,  the  Spruce-tree  is  lodged  against  the  trunk  of 
some  lofty  Phie,  up  which  wo  ascend  to  a  height  twice  that  of 
the  surrounding  forest. 

From  Buch  a  tree-top,  like  a  mariner  at  the  mast-head  upon 
the  "look-out"  for  whales  (for  indeed  the  Pine  is  the  whale  of 
the  forest),  large  "clumps"  and  "veins"  of  Pine  are  discovered, 
■whose  towering  tops  may  be  seen  for  miles  around.     Such  views 


*:f 


M 


FOREST    LIFE. 


53 


IS  com- 
tioii  of 
Qtl  (lilu- 
3  trans- 
waters 
knients 
had  the 
ble  that 
af  New 
ed  they 
he  Mat- 
j  to  the 
e  cauBos 
at  til  ere 
lit,  that 
Tom  tlie 
t>vcr  the 

the  ob- 
Whcn 
selected, 
IS  limbs 
;,  which 
r  tree  is 
c  top  of 
ated  po- 
ruiik  of 
I  that  of 

ad  upon 
vhale  of 
^covered, 
cli  views 


fill  the  bosom  of  timber-himtcrs  with  an  intense  intercut..  They 
are  the  object  of  his  .search,  his  treasure,  his  El  Donah,  and  they 
are  beheld  with  peculiar  and  thrilhuf^  emotions.  To  detail  the 
process  more  minutely,  we  should  observe  that  the  man  in  the 
tree-top  puints  out  the  direction  in  which  the  Pines  are  seen  ;  or, 
if  hid  from  the  view  of  those  below  by  the  surroundiiisx  foliarre, 
he  breaks  a  small  limb,  and  throws  it  in  the  direction  in  which 
they  ajipear,  while  a  man  at  the  base  marks  the  direction  indi- 
cated by  tlie  fallin"'  limb  by  a  compass  which  he  holds  in  his 
hand,  the  compass  being  quite  as  necessary  in  the  wilderness  as 
on  the  pathless  ocean. 

In  fair  weather  the  sun  serves  as  an  important  guide  ;  and  in 
cloudy  weather  the  close  observation  of  an  experienced  woodsman 
will  enable  him  to  steer  a  tolerably  correct  course  by  the  moss 
which  grows  on  the  trunks  of  most  hard-wood  trees,  the  north 
side  of  which  are  covered  with  a  much  larger  share  than  the 
other  portions  of  the  trunk.  This  Indian  compass,  however,  is 
not  very  convenient  nor  safe,  particularly  in  passing  through 
swamj)y  lands,  which  are  of  frequent  occurrence. 

After  spending  several  days  in  scouring  the  wilderness  in  search 
of  the  Pines,  minutely  examining  their  quality  (for  an  experienced 
lumberman-  can  determine  this  with  surprising  certainty),  calcu- 
lating the  distance  the  logs  may  have  to  be  hauled,  and  noting 
the  surface  of  the  land  through  which  the  logging  roads  are  to 
be  cut,  cVc,  we  retrace  our  steps  to  the  landing,  where  the  ba- 
teau has  been  left.  Once  more  our  frail  bark  floats  upon  the 
dancing  current  of  the  stream,  glifling  onward  as  if  stimulated 
M-ilh  the  very  joyousness  of  the  "  homeward-bound"  voyagers. 
After  several  days'  exploration  on  foot,  the  boat  ride  is  particu- 
larly welcome.  In  the  realization  of  this,  however,  we  arc  some- 
times sadly,  even  provokingly  disappointed. 

It  is  known  to  those  versed  in  the  habits  of  the  black  bear, 
that  late  in  the  lall  of  the  year  they  manifest  an  uncommon  fond- 


i 


54 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR 


l|! 


!l 


ricss  for  pilch  or  resinous  substances.  In  tlio  course  of  my  travels 
through  the  forest,  I  have  often  seen  Fir-trees  which  contained 
large  quantities  of  balsam,  with  their  bark  entirely  stri])ped  from 
the  trunk  by  these  craving  depredators.  Uinler  the  impulses  of 
this  peculiar  appetite,  they  sometimes  tear  even  our  bateau  to 
pieces  for  the  tar  with  which  it  is  besmeared.  If  injured  beyond 
the  means  of  repair,  we  are  compelled  to  pursue  our  journey  down 
on  foot.  Perchance  we  may  fortunately  meet  some  Indian  trap- 
jier  with  his  frail  canoe,  which  we  charter  for  a  portion  of  the 
journey,  until  another  boat,  or  means  of  conveyance,  can  be  so 
cured.  Were  any  of  my  readers  ever  on  board  the  Indian's  bark 
canoe  ?  ^ome,  doubtless,  have  been,  and  such  will  bear  me  out 
in  the  declaration  that  the  voyager  experiences  emotions  pecul- 
iarly agreeable.  As  a  conveyance,  it  seems  to  occupy  a  space 
between  riding  and  ilyiug  ;  not  in  respect  to  its  speed,  although 
this  is  considerable  when  the  paddle  is  vigorously  applied,  but  its 
fairy-like  buoyancy  quite  dissipates  the  idea  of  one's  gravity. 

Having  determined,  during  the  exploration,  upon  the  territory 
from  which  we  wish  to  cut  and  haul  our  logs,  we  proceed  to  ob- 
tain permits  from  the  state  or  proprietors,  which  secure  the  ex- 
clusive right  to  cut  timber  within  the  bounds  of  the  grant  for 
a  stipulated  price  ;  so  much  per  thousand  feet,  board-measure, 
which  varies  from  one  to  eight  dollars  'pcr  31.,  according  to  the 
quality  of  the  timber  and  its  convenient  location  to  the  lake, 
river,  or  stream  upon  which  it  is  to  be  floated  to  market.  Among 
other  preliminaries  which  anticipate  the  winter  operations  of 
lumbermen  is  the  "  putting  up"  of  large  quantities  of  meadow 
hay. 

{Skirting  the  stagnant  sections  of  rivers  and  streams,  extensive 
strips  of  meadow  land  spread  back  to  the  border  of  "  ui)hinds," 
whose  outlines  are  distinctly  defined  by  immense  forcsis  which 
hem  in  these  large  areas,  sometimes  embracing  many  thousands 
of  acres.     This   intervale  is  covered  with  a  heavy  growth  of 


< 


^^ 


1 

« 

It 

travels 

• 

iitiiiiied 

ed  IVoia 

ulses  of 

iteaii  to 

Leyond 

3y  down 

111  trap- 

L  of  tho 

I  Le  S(;- 

I's  bark 

me  out 

s  pecul- 

a  space 

Uhout^li 

,  but  its 

ity. 

erritory 

d  to  ob- 

tlie  ex- 

rant  for 

leasure, 

r  to  tho 

ic  lake, 

Amon<r 

ions   of 

iieadow 

:tensivo 

)lau(ls," 

i  which 

ousands 
will   of 

< 

FOREST   LIFr. 


55 


meadow  grass.  By  this  remarkable  arrangement,  Nature  has 
anticipated,  as  it  Avould  api)ear,  the  wants  ol'  lunibernien  in  lo- 
cating, and  in  preserving  from  the  encroachments  of  the  forest,  a 
plentiful  suj)ply  of  subsistence  for  the  teams  employed  in  pro- 
curing lumber  in  its  immediate  vicinity,  and  far  from  the  haunts 
of  civihzed  man. 

To  these  wild  and  solemn  retreats,  where  the  dismal  hooting 
of  the  night-owl  breaks  upon  the  ear,  and  the  sighing  winds,  as 
they  i)ass  through  the  tall,  waving  grass,  waft  the  distant  howl 
of  the  wolf,  large  crews  of  men  resort,  with  the  usual  haying  im- 
plements, provisions,  &cc.,  for  making  and  stacking  the  hay  to  be 
used  during  the  ensuing  winter. 

In  the  latter  part  of  autumn  these  meadows  arc  covered  with 
water,  which  linally  freezes.  It  is  therefore  necessary  to  erect 
tem})orary  scallblds,  called  more  generally  "  staddles,"  upon 
which  the  hay  is  to  be  piled  in  large  stacks.  These  staddles 
are  made  of  poles  laid  upon  cross-stakes  or  crutches,  sufficiently 
liigh  to  protect  the  hay  from  the  water  beneath.  From  these 
the  hay  is  removed,  sometimes  in  boats  before  the  waters  freeze, 
and  afterward  upon  sleds  on  the  ice.  "When  the  former  method 
of  transportation  is  adopted,  two  bateaus  or  skiffs  are  placed  side 
by  side,  small  poles  being  thrown  across  them ;  the  hay  is  then 
loaded  on  this  platform,  and  carried  to  the  most  convenient  land- 
ing, where  it  is  reloaded  and  hauled  on  ox-sleds  to  the  camp.  If 
the  hay  is  removed  upon  the  ice,  the  stacks  are  hauled  away 
whole.  The  mode  of  loading  is  simple  ;  the  central  part  of  tho 
Bcaliblding  is  cut  away,  the  sled  shoved  underneath,  when  the  re- 
maining props  are  cut  away,  and  the  whole  stack  settles  on  to 
the  sled,  and  is  thus  moved  off  to  the  place  of  destination.  This 
exi)editious  method  of  loading  is  particularly  convenient  and  de- 
sirable, as  may  be  imagined  when  one  takes  into  consideration  the 
biting  winter  winds  which  sweep  across  these  wide  meadow  fields. 

yince  agricultural  interests  have  invited  men  far  into  tho  in- 


# 


I 


I  • 


>'       I,  >  I 


!    iii 


5G 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR 


leriur  in  the  \iciuity  of  liiuibur  berths,  whero  lar^^^e  tracts  ol"  laud 
have  been  cleared  up,  less  "alue  is  attached  to,  and  lens  use 
made  ol"  meadow  hay  than  formerly,  as  English  grass  becomes 
more  plenty,  is  more  available,  and  is  nuich  better  in  its  quality. 

A  distinguishing  characteristic  of  this  kind  of  business  is  the 
unceasing  encounter  by  our  lumbermen  with  the  blood-thirsty 
millions  of  Hies  who  swarm  and  triumph  over  these  sanguinary 
fields.  In  the  use  of  lire-arms  these  unvanquishable  hosts  are 
not  skilled,  to  be  sure,  but  in  a  charge  they  are  invincible.  No 
amount  of  slaughter  will  intimidate  them.  Though  the  sweep- 
ing hand  of  destruction  annihilates  them  b'  t  housands,  still,  Avith 
full  ranks,  the  contest  is  carried  on  with  unabated  vigor,  a  re- 
spite only  being  allbrded  in  rainy  weather,  or  v/hen  high  winds 
prevail ;  then  they  retire  from  the  Held. 

At  night  the  musq  u  o  lancers  take  up  the  action — the  Indion 
tribes  of  the  insect  species — and  all  night  they  keep  up  their  cease- 
less war-whoop,  as  they  repeat  their  sallies  upon  the  weary,  dis- 
turbed sleeper.  No  coat  of  mail  is  proof  against  the  attacks  of 
one  species  of  lly  commonly  called  the  midget,  which  is  so  small 
as  to  be  almost  imperceptible  to  the  naked  eye.  The  black  lly 
and  the  muscpiito  can  only  reach  the  exposed  parts  of  the  bo-Jy, 
but  to  the  midget  every  portion  is  accessible.  He  insinuates  him- 
self under  the  collar,  the  wristband,  and  through  the  texture  of 
the  garments,  and  the  whole  region  between  the  shirt  and  the 
skin  is  a  field  for  his  operations. 

In  one  process  of  the  haying  operations,  In  iiartleular,  they  are 
very  annoying.  The  hay,  when  cut,  is  carried  in  small  cocks 
upon  two  poles  by  two  men  to  the  scallblding,  for  the  purpose  of 
being  stacked.  AYhile  thus  em})loyed,  with  both  hands  engaged, 
millions  of  these  little  invisibles  insinuate  themselves  under  the 
garments,  and,  whatever  interest  or  ambition  may  fail  to  do,  by 
way  of  producing  energelic  motion,  the  irritating  smart  of  their 
bite  abundantly  makes  up.     jVulc/ts  vulcjis,  the  men  thus  em- 


^ 


! 


FOREST    MFE. 


57 


3  of  laud 
loss  use 
buconios 
quality. 
;-s  is  the 
d-tliirsty 
iguiuaiy 
lusts  are 
)lc.  No 
e  swecp- 
Lill,  M'ith 
or,  a  re- 
jli  wiuds 

le  Indian 
3ir  cease- 
jary,  dis- 
tacks  of 

so  SUKlll 

jlack  Ily 
le  body, 
es  him- 

xture  of 
and  the 

tliey  are 
11  cocks 
rpose  of 
ugagcd, 
der  the 
0  do,  by 
of  their 
lus  em- 


ployed dance  to  the  tune  oi  ^'  Mid'zct's  mcxvhnc-hay  j'l'^  f  and 
when  no  loufrer  able  to  resist  the  earnebt  invitation  to  rub  aud 
scratch,  which  their  irritating  bite  holds  out,  down  drop  the  poles, 
hay  and  all  I  Ah  !  let  him  who  has  experienced  the  irritation, 
and  the  relief  of  furious  friction,  Lidiik — Fm  sure  he  may  not 
pen  it. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  labor  and  annoyances  of  meadow  life, 
there  are  pastimes  and  adventures  to  be  met  with.  A  shot  1U)W 
ami  then  at  some  stray  deer  who  may  chance  to  stroll  upon  the 
meadow  to  graze  ;  the  hooking  of  beautii'ul  trout,  pickerel,  and 
other  delicious  pan-iish,  alibrd  agreeable  relief  from  ciinui  ;  while 
the  spoils  of  the  forest  and  the  brook  anbrd  most  agreeable  changes 
of  diet.  Here,  also,  very  fre<piently  are  skirmishes  had  with  the 
coiiuuon  black  bear.  If  Bruin  is  not  intentionally  i)ngnacioiis, 
he  is  really  meddlesome  ;  nay,  more,  a  downright  trespasser — a 
regular  thief — an  out-and-out  "no-government"  animal,  who, 
though  neither  profane  nor  yet  immoral,  still,  without  a})()stolic- 
al  i)iety,  would  have  "  all  things  common."  These  peculiar  traits 
of  character  secure  to  him  the  especial  attention  of  mankind,  and 
ever  make  him  the  object  of  attack.  Though  formidable  as  an 
enemy,  it  is  hard  to  allow  him  to  pass,  even  if  he  be  civilly  in- 
';lined,  without  direct  assault.  On  one  occasion,  while  two  men 
were  crossing  a  small  lake  in  a  skiif,  on  their  return  from  the 
meadows,  where  they  had  been  putting  up  hay,  they  discovered 
a  bear  swimming  from  a  point  of  land  for  the  opposite  shore. 
As  usual  in  such  cases,  temptation  silenced  prudential  remon- 
strance ;  so,  changing  their  course,  they  gave  chase.  The  craft 
being  light,  they  gained  fast  upon  the  bear,  who  exerted  himself 
to  the  utmost  to  gain  the  shore.  But,  finding  himself  an  une- 
qual match  in  the  race,  he  turned  upon  his  pursuers  and  swam 
to  meet  them.  One  of  the  men,  a  short,  thick-set,  dare-devil 
sort  of  a  fellow,  seized  an  ax,  and  the  moment  the  bear  came  up, 
inflieled  a  lilow  upon  his  head  which  seemed  to  make  but   a 

C  2 


iiSt 


HT' 


'W'      I 


:! 


I    I 


li        i 


1' 


i 


ill 


i! 


5S 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR 


slifrht  impression.  Before  a  second  could  be  repeated,  the  bear 
clambered  into  the  boat ;  he  instantly  grappled  the  man  who 
struck  him,  firmly  scttinj^  his  teeth  in  the  man's  thigh  ;  then  set- 
tling back  upon  his  haunches,  he  raised  his  victim  in  the  air,  and 
shook  him  as  a  dog  would  a  wood-chuck.  The  man  at  the  helm 
stood  for  a  moment  in  amazement,  without  knowing  how  to  act, 
and  fearing  that  the  bear  might  spring  overboard  and  drown  his 
companion  ;  but,  recollecting  the  efl'ect  of  a  blow  upon  the  end  of 
a  bear's  snout,  he  struck  him  with  a  short  setting-polo.  The 
bear  dropped  his  victim  into  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  sallied  and 
fell  overboard,  and  swam  again  for  the  shore.  The  man  bled 
freely  from  the  bite,  and  as  the  wound  proved  too  serious  to  al- 
low a  renewal  of  the  encounter,  they  made  for  the  shore.  Med- 
ical aid  was  procured  as  soon  as  possible,  and  in  the  course  of 
six  weeks  the  man  recovered  from  the  ellects  of  the  bite.  But 
one  thing  saved  them  from  being  upset ;  the  water  proved  suffi- 
ciently shoal  to  admit  of  the  bear's  getting  bottom,  from  which 
he  sprang  into  the  boat.  Had  the  water  been  deep,  the  boat 
must  inevitably  have  been  upset,  in  which  case  the  consequen- 
ces might  have  been  more  serious. 

It  was  on  one  of  these  haying  occasions  that  a  more  startling 
but  harmless  encounter  with  the  elements  was  experienced.  One 
afternoon,  about  two  o'clock,  while  several  men  were  making  their 
way  up  a  small  stream  on  a  branch  of  the  Penobscot,  their  atten- 
tion was  suddenly  arrested  by  a  sound  which  resembled  distant 
thunder.  Each  moment  the  noise  grew  more  distinct,  accom- 
panied with  a  tremulous  motion  of  the  earth.  Still  nearer  and 
yet  nearer  it  approached,  with  a  rushing  sound,  intermingled  with 
loud  reports.  Between  our  boatmen  and  the  forest  at  the  south- 
west spread  an  area  of  meadow  land.  Looking  in  this  direction, 
a  dense  column,  rising  high  in  the  heavens,  was  seen  whirling  in 
the  distance,  and  approaching  with  incredible  velocity.  They 
barely  eflected  a  landing  when  it  came  upon  them.     In  an  in- 


FOUEST    LIFE. 


59 


he  bear 
lan  who 
,hen  set- 
air,  and 
he  helm 
V  to  act, 
own  his 
e  end  of 
e.  The 
lied  and 
lan  bled 
IS  to  al- 
.  Med- 
>urse  of 
e.  But 
13d  siiffi- 
n  which 
he  boat 
isequcn- 

;tarthn<T 
d.  One 
mg  their 
ir  atten- 
.  distant 
accom- 
trer  and 
Led  with 
e  south- 
irection, 
irlini^  in 
They 
I  an  in- 


stant their  boat  was  hurk^d  into  the  tops  of  the  trees  over  their 
heads,  while  they  were  able  to  retain  their  position  by  holding  on 
to  tlie  small  undergrowth,  and  escaped  unhurt.  The  hurricane, 
in  its  passage  across  the  meadow,  seemed  to  lose  its  force,  so  that 
by  the  time  it  reached  the  opposite  side  of  the  meadow  its  power 
was  broken,  and  its  career  of  destruction  ended.  In  its  passage 
it  laid  a  strip  of  forest  level  some  seventy  rods  wide  and  thirty 
miles  long.  No  tree  within  this  limit  withstood  its  fury.  The 
toughest  and  stateliest  mingled  in  wildest  confusion  with  blanched 
trunks,  yielding  sapling,  and  slender  undergrowth. 

At  the  proper  time,  which  varies  in  dillerent  localities,  but 
generally  during  the  early  part  of  fall,  a  more  extensive  outfit  is 
made  for  another  up-river  expedition,  for  the  purpose  of  erecting 
winter  camps,  clearing  the  main  roads,  and  attending  to  such 
other  preliminaries  as  may  be  deemed  necessr.ry. 

Several  years  ago  the  whole  distance  from  our  homes  to  tho 
interior  was  traveled  by  water,  on  which  occasions  h(!avy-la- 
den  boats  were  taken  up  these  rivers  and  streams,  and  across 
the  lakes,  an  operation  which  M'as  both  hazardous  and  laborious, 
particularly  where  the  swift  current  of  rapids  was  to  be  over- 
come, and  when  it  became  necessary  to  carry  the  boat  and  cargo 
around  impassable  falls — a  frequent  occurrence,  the  river  in  some 
places  being  nothing  but  one  continuous  succession  of  rapids  for 
miles.  In  some  places,  to  save  the  labor  of  "  carrying  by,"  at- 
tempts are  made  to  shove  the  boats  up  fearful  rapids,  where  a 
single  mistake  or  false  maneuver  would  swamp  them.  A  lively 
little  incident  of  this  kind  is  quoted  below,  from  Doctor  Jackson's 
account  of  an  excursion  up  the  Penobscot  on  the  business  of  a  geo- 
logical survey  of  the  state. 

"  While  we  were  engaged  in  exploring  the  rocks  (at  Grind- 
stone Falls),  our  men  tried  to  shove  the  boat  up  the  falls,  but  the 
violence  of  the  current  prevented  their  effecting  their  object,  the 
boat  being  instantly  filled  and  suidt  in  the  attempt,  while  all  our 


& 


■r 


1 1 


I 


lit 
I 


Ji 


I  y 


'  ii 


^r 


I 


CO 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR 


bap-p^afrc  and  provisions  that  remained  on  board  were  swei)t  olf 
and  carried  down  the  stream.  A  scene  of  lunvouted  activity  now 
ensued  in  our  endeavors  to  save  our  articles,  as  they  were  rapidly 
borne  down  the  foaming  waters.  The  boat,  fortunately,  was  not 
much  injured,  and  we  succeeded  in  hauling  it  upon  a  rock,  and 
bailed  out  the  water,  after  which  we  gave  chase  to  our  lost  ar- 
ticles, and  succeeded  in  saving  those  that  were  most  essential  to 
our  safety.  The  bread-barrel,  although  scuttled,  was  but  half 
full  of  bread,  and  floated  down  stream  with  its  opening  upper- 
most, so  that  but  little  of  it  was  injured.  Our  bucket  of  rice 
burst  open  and  was  lost.  The  tea-kettle  and  other  cooking  ap- 
paratus sank  in  the  river,  and  were  iished  up  by  a  hook  and  line. 
The  tent  was  found  about  a  mile  down  the  river,  stretclied  across 
a  rock.  The  maps  and  charts  were  soaked  with  water,  so  that 
it  required  as  much  labor  and  patience  to  unroll  them  as  the 
papyri  of  Herculancum.  Our  spare  boots  and  shoes  were  irre- 
coverably lost.  Having  rescued  the  most  important  articles  from 
the  water,  we  carried  by  the  falls,  camped,  and  dried  our  papers 
and  provision,  being  thankful  that  no  worse  an  accident  had  be- 
fallen us.  Fortunately,  we  had  taken  the  precaution  to  remove 
our  surveying  instruments  and  the  blankets  from  the  boat  before 
the  falls  were  attempted. 

**  Having  kindled  a  camp-fire  and  dried  ourselves,  a  storm  of 
rain  began  to  pour  around  us ;  but  our  great  fire  was  not  easily 
damped,  and  we  passed  a  comfortable  night  beneath  the  shelter 
of  a  w^ater-proof  tent. 

"  The  Penobscot  boatmen  arc  well  skilled  in  the  art  of  camp- 
ing in  a  comfortable  manner,  and  soon  prepare  their  fire  for  the 
night,  make  a  bed  of  boughs,  and  pitch  the  tent  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  afibrd  a  complete  shelter.  Having  partaken  of  our 
meal,  we  reposed  upon  the  boughs  spread  upon  the  earth,  our 
feet  being  turned  toward  the  fire.  This  being  our  first  encamp- 
ment for  the  season,  the  novelty  of  the  scene  prevented  sleep  ; 


i 


FORKf^T    LIFE. 


01 


sw<.'|)t  oir 

ivity  now 
ro  rajjidly 
f,  was  not 
rock,  and 
ir  lost  ar- 
seiitial  to 
but  hali' 
ig  iippcr- 
3t  of  rico 
okiiij^  ap- 
aiid  line, 
ed  across 
r,  so  that 
n  as  tho 
^'^erc  irro- 
clcs  from 
ir  papers 
t  had  bc- 
)  remove 
at  before 

storm  of 
ot  easily 
e  shelter 

af  camp- 
3  for  the 
L  a  man- 
11  of  our 
irth,  our 
encamp- 
d  sleep  ; 


tlie  iii^dit  was  very  ])leasaiit,  and  the  broad  moon,  slowly  dc- 
Kcendiii^j;  iu  the  west,  added  lier  eHulfreuce  to  beanlify  the  scene, 
her  imajrc  beiii;r  reilected  by  the  ripplin;^'  waleis.  while  various 
contrasts  of  li«,^ht  and  shade  from  the  dense  lolia<re,  and  the  pale 
moonbeam  and  filaring  red  cam[)-fire,  gave  an  elR'ct  full  of  beau- 
ty, and  worthy  the  attention  of  an  artist. 

"Amid  pleasant  scenes,  we  are,  however,  subject  to  contrasts 
of  a  less  agreeable  kind  ;  and  here  our  Indian,  while  cutting 
wood,  suH'cred  a  severe  accident  ;  his  hatchet,  accidentally  slip- 
ping, was  driven  decjily  into  his  leg  between  two  bones,  so  as  to 
exj)()se  tiie  anterior  tibial  artery.  I  was  tlien  called  u}»on  in  my 
surgical  capacity,  and,  having  my  instruments  with  me,  dressed 
his  woiuid  in  the  usual  manner,  and  early  next  morning  we  took 
him  to  Maltanawcook  Island,  where  we  made  arrangements  with 
another  Indian,  Louis  Neptune,  to  supply  his  place  while  he  was 
recovering  from  his  wound." 

These  dilliculties  of  transportation  have  been  somewhat  abated 
by  the  construction  of  roads,  which  penetrate  much  nearer  to 
liuubcr  berths  than  formerly,  and  enable  us  to  convey  our  pro- 
visions, implements,  and  even  boats,  with  horse  teams,  a  consid- 
erable portion  of  the  distance  once  laboriously  performed  by  wa- 
ter. I  am  no-t  familiar  with  any  kind  of  labor  which  tests  a  man's 
physical  abilities  and  powers  of  endurance  more  than  boating  sup- 
plies up  river.  The  labor  of  carrying  by  falls,  and  portages  from 
lake  to  lake,  imposes  a  heavy  tax  upon  the  body.  Barrels  of 
pork,  flour,  and  other  provisions,  too  heavy  for  one  man  to  carry 
alone,  are  slung  to  a  pole  by  the  aid  of  ropes,  one  man  being  at 
either  end,  and  thus  wc  clamber,  under  our  heavy  burdens,  over 
rocks,  the  trunks  of  fallen  trees,  slippery  roots,  and  through  mud- 
slouglis,  sometimes  without  any  path,  through  the  thickets  and 
groves  of  trees.  The  boat  is  turned  bottom  upAvard,  the  gun- 
wales resting  upon  the  shoulders  of  three  men,  two  abreast  near 
the  bows,  and  one  at  the  stern.     In  this  position  wc  pass  over 


if 


M' 


I 


' 


i: 


i 


"    ' 


it 


62 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR 


tlio  game  route  tliroiif^h  Avliicli  tlic  provinious  have  been  carrlod 
to  the  next  laiitlin^^,  wlicrc  the  go.ds  are  af^aiii  reslii|H)L'(l,  and 
Ave  proceed  by  water  on  hike  or  stream,  with  the  alternate  rou- 
tine of  paddHng,  pohng,  and  hif^'riuj^^  until  the  place  of  det;tina- 
tion  is  reached. 

Persons  wiiolly  nnacqnainted  ^viih  river  navif^ation  can  havo 
but  an  imperfect  idea  of  the  skill  as  well  as  nerve  brought  into 
refphsition  in  taking  a  heavy-laden  bateau,  skiff,  or  canoe  up  over 
rajtids.  Let  such  a  person  stand  upon  the  banks  of  tlie  river, 
and  survey  some  places  over  which  these  frail  l)oats,  loaded  to  the 
gunwale,  pass,  and  he  would  not  only  regard  the  thing  as  exceed- 
ingly dillicult  and  hazardous,  but  as  altogether  impossible  ;  with 
the  inexperienced  it  would,  indeed,  bo  both,  but  our  skillful  wa- 
termen will  perform  it  with  the  greatest  dexterity.  Should  any 
traveler  chance  to  take  an  np-river  trij)  with  those  boatmen,  I  am 
quite  sure  his  observations  would  confirm  my  statement  respect- 
ing them.  I  am  happy  to  add  here  the  testimony  of  Dr.  Jacdc- 
son,  who  had  an  opportunity  to  witness  their  skill  :  "  Those  who 
have  never  been  on  such  a  journey  would  be  surprised  at  the 
dexterity  of  the  Penobscot  boatmen  as  they  drive  their  frail  ba- 
teau through  the  rapids  and  among  dangerous  rocks.  The  slight- 
est failure  on  their  2)art,  on  passing  the  nunlerous  waterfalls,  would 
place  the  lives  of  those  on  board  in  imminent  peril,  and  the  trav- 
eler has  good  reason  to  be  thankful  if  the  boat  by  their  care  is 
saved  from  being  overturned  or  sunk  in  the  river. 

"When  the  waters  rush  down  a  rapid  slope  of  smooth  and 
round  rocks,  forming  what  arc  called  gravel-beds,  the  most  stren- 
uous exertions  of  the  boatmen  are  required  to  stem  the  current, 
and  not  unfrequently  their  'setting'  poles  are  caught  between 
the  rocks,  so  as  to  be  jerked  from  their  grasp.  Bateaux  are  nav- 
igated up  stream  by  means  of  slender  poles  of  spruce,  about 
twelve  or  fifteen  feet  in  length,  armed  with  an  iron  point,  con- 
fined by  a  ferule  or  iron  band  around  its  extremity.     One  boat- 


FOREST    LIFE. 


63 


x-'cu  ciuriod 

liij'lK'd,  and 

Icnialo  rou- 

ol"  dufitiiia- 

1  can  liavo 
Touglit  into 
HOC  up  over 
t'  tlio  river, 
);ided  to  tlie 
as  excet'd- 
'ible  ;   Avitli 
killfiil  \va- 
yiiould  any 
tmcii,  I  am 
iiit  respecl- 
'  Dr.  Jark- 
Tliose  who 
sed  at  the 
ir  frail  ba- 
Thc  slig'ht- 
alls,  would 
d  the  trav- 
eir  care  is 

■nooth  and 
nost  strcn- 
le  current, 
t  between 
X  are  nav- 
uce,  about 
point,  con- 
One  boat- 


man stands  in  the  bow  and  l)races  his  foot  aj^ainst  the  stem  as  ho 
labors  ;  the  otiier  stands  in  the  stern,  and  they  both  pole  on  tlio 
same  side  as  they  proceed  up  the  mar^nn  of  the  stream.  Do- 
scendinf^  the  river,  tliey  make  use  of  paddles."'  However,  tlio 
deptli  to  which  these  IVail  boats  arc  loaded,  in  which  condition 
they  pass  tlirou<rh  rou<,^li  waters  and  wide  lakes,  where  the  wind 
is  liable  in  a  few  minutes  to  raise  hifih  waves,  can  not  be  rej^ard- 
cd  as  prudent,  with  all  their  matchless  skill  in  navi<i:atin<if. 

"When  I  call  to  mind  tlie  intemperate  habits  to  which  most 
lumbermen  in  times  past  were  addicted,  I  am  surprised  that  no 
more  accidents  have  occurred  while  naviJ,^'lting  our  rivers. 

1  shall  not  soon  forpfet  the  perilous  circumstances  in  wlii(di  I 
was  once  ])laced,  in  company  with  others,  while  taking  a  deeply- 
laden  skill'  up  to  the  head  waters  of  the  8t.  Croix. 

flaviiif^  safely  passed  the  rapids  of  the  river,  we  embarked  upon 
the  Lake  Che-pet-na-cook,  up  which  we  jiaddled  about  twenty 
miles  to  the  portage,  over  which  we  had  to  carry  our  cllects  to 
Grand  Lake,  distant  some  two  miles.  By  the  time  wc  had  ac- 
complished these  moves  the  shadows  of  a  September  evening 
beiran  to  gather  around  us,  giving  a  peculiar  tint  to  the  large 
sheet  of  water  before  us,  which  spread  to  the  north  some  twenty- 
five  miles,  with  an  expanse  east  and  west  of  about  six  miles,  wash- 
ing a  portion  of  the  shores  of  Maine  on  the  west,  and  the  prov- 
ince of  New  Brunswick  on  the  east. 

The  point  of  destination  lay  about  half  way  np  the  lake  on 
the  American  side.  Our  boat  was  deeply  laden  with  men  and 
provisions;  of  the  former  there  were  seven  in  number.  A  light 
wind  from  the  east  caused  a  gentle  ripple  upon  the  surface  of  the 
waters,  which  induced  us  to  hug  the  easterly  shore  pretty  closely. 
We  proceeded  sloAvly,  and  when  it  became  necessary  to  change 
our  course  in  order  to  cross  the  lake,  night  had  nearly  settled 
down  upon  the  waters,  leaving  only  suITicient  light  to  reveal  the 
opposite  shore,  which  stretched  along  the  verge  of  the  horizon, 


(U 


THE  i/\e-tui:e,  or 


I* 


►>w 


n< 


prcpuntin^r  tlio  jipiicunuicc  of  a  long,  dark  cloud  bcttiing  upon  llio 
bonU^rH  ol"  tlio  lake. 

Wo  had  plenty  of  new  rum  ou  hoard,  whieh  was  used  at  stat- 
ed intervals,  as,  accortlinp^  to  the  faith  of  nearly  every  nuiu  iii 
thoHO  days,  it  j^avo  to  the  arm  more  vi«^or  in  tlie  neees-sary  labor 
of  plying  the  paddle.  It  soon  beeamo  evident  that  one  of  our 
niunber  had  imbibed  too  freely,  to  the  imminent  hazard  of  our 
lives.  The  reader  may  ea:sily  imagine  our  ])erllous  condition 
under  such  circumHtanees.  Our  frail  skilf  was  about  eighteen 
feet  long,  and  lour  feet  across  the  top  of  the  gunwale  ami<l-ships, 
tapering  to  a  point  at  either  end,  constructed  of  thin  slii)s  of  pino 
boards  nailed  to  some  hall'  do/.en  pair  of  slender  knees  about  two 
inches  in  diameter.  On  board  were  some  lifleen  liundred  pounds 
of  provisions,  with  seven  men,  whieh  pressed  her  into  the  water 
nearly  to  the  gunwale  ;  three  inches  iruia  ilie  position  of  a  level, 
and  .she  would  fill  with  water. 

As  men  usually  are  quite  insensible  to  danger  when  in  liquor, 
so  was  it  with  "  Dnn^'  in  this  instance.  Too  comfortable  in  his 
feelings  to  keep  still,  as  indeed  was  indispensable  to  the  most 
steady  among  us,  he  kept  constantly  lurching  about,  and  periling 
us  with  a  capsizing  repeatedly.  He  was  admonished  in  the  most 
pressing  and  peremptory  manner  to  keeji  quiet ;  but  in  his  drunk- 
en idiocy  he  became  a  terror,  and  it  was  manifest  that  something 
must  be  done  to  insure  our  safety. 

Our  paddles  hung  powerless  over  the  sides  of  the  frail  thing 
which  buoyed  us  upon  the  surface  of  the  deep  water  ;  to  advance 
seemed  too  uncertain  and  dreadful,  while  the  darkness  rested 
down  deeper  upon  the  lake.  A  hasty  consultation  was  held  upon 
the  propriety  of  putting  back  to  the  shore,  when  the  drunken 
wretch  gave  a  sudden  lurch,  which  settled  the  gunwale  under 
water  !  *'  My  God  !  we  are  gone  I"  shouted  some  half  dozen 
voices  at  the  instant.  However,  by  a  counter-motion  we  raised 
the  submerged  gunwale  from  sinking  further.     In  an  instant  our 


ii 


FOREHT   LIFE. 


05 


iiiy  upou  tlio 

used  ;it  slat- 
very  man  iu 
;)es<.sary  labor 
'.  one  of  our 
izaril  ol"  our 
us  condition 
)ut  ejfrliteen. 
i  ainid-ships, 
slips  of"  piuo 
Mi  about  two 
drcd  pounds 
<>  the  water 
u  of  a  level, 

sn  in  liquor, 
table  in  his 
o  the  most 
ind  peiilinf^ 
in  the  most 
his  drunk- 
something 

frail  thing 
to  advance 
less  rested 
held  upon. 
e  drunken. 
:ale  under 
lalf  dozen 
we  raised 
nstaut  our 


liohMsinan  was  upon  bis  feet,  and,  raisin;,''  lii.>  |i:itldli'  in  a  most 
nuMiacinuf  attitude  over  the  bead  ol'lbe  intoxicated  man,  "D — tl 
yoii  I"  sai<l  he,  "  if  yt»u  move  ajrain  111  split  your  skull  open  I" 
The  threat  was  terrible,  and  he  wouhl  iiave  cleft  his  head  open 
in  an  instant.  1  expected  he  wouhl  strike,  for  our  lives  depend- 
ed upon  cpiietin^  him  in  some  way;  but  liu^  fellow  seemed  to 
awake  to  oiir  i»crilous  condition,  and  slunk  down  into  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat.  We  put  about  instantly  for  the  shore,  ami  in  a 
lew  moments  touched  the  beach.  AVith  a  willing  step  I  placed 
my  feet  on  terra  firnui  once  more. 

It  was  then  determined  that  part  of  the  crew  should  remain, 
■while  the  others  should  cross  the  lake,  uidoad  the  ])rovisions,  and 
return  for  tliose  left  behind.  Four  men  were  accordingly  left, 
and  I  was  glad  to  make  one  of  the  numljer,  though  left  upon  a 
wild  and  unlVecpiented  spot,  without  food  or  shelter,  with  the 
prospect  of  s[ien(ling  the  greater  portion  of  the  night  there,  even 
should  the  rest  of  the  crew  make  a  successful  trij)  ;  and,  in  the 
event  of  their  being  swamped,  a  thing  by  no  means  impossible, 
for  sometimes  the  wind  sutldenly  rises,  and  in  a  veiy  short  time 
lashes  the  lake  into  foaming  waves,  in  which  cas'3  the  skill' could 
not  live,  then  the  circuit  of  the  lake  must  be  performed,  and  days 
nmst  elap.se  before  relief  could  be  obtained  ;  but  still,  with  these 
certainties  and  probable  contingencies  heforo  us,  wo  were  glad 
to  feel  mother  earth  under  the  soles  of  our  feet.  By  the  time 
these  matters  had  been  iixed,  the  darkness  had  shut  out  tho 
•western  shore  entirely  from  view  ;  our  comrades,  therefore,  only 
shaped  their  course  hy  the  fire  which  we  had  kindled  u])on  llie 
shore,  and  which  we  kept  burning  by  a  constant  supjjly  of  brush 
and  the  most  inllammable  wood  that  could  be  procured. 

Not  having  had  much  experience  in  the  wilderness  at  this  time, 
and  never  under  such  peculiar  circumstances,  I  felt  somewhat 
timid  and  apprehensive,  as  we  were  hir  from  relief  and  the  abodes 
of  civilization,  and  in  a  region  where  bears,  wolves,  and  a  dan- 


I 


6G 


THE    riNE-TREE,  OR 


'    il 


!   I 


!'  !li 


gorous  specimen  of  the  feline  sjiecics,  known  by  woodsmen  as  the 
"  Indian  devil,"  had  prowled  from  time  immemorial.  From  the 
manner  in  which  my  exiled  companions  piled  the  brush  on  the 
fire,  I  suspected,  also,  that  they  had  some  confidence  in  its  pro- 
tective power.  The  night  was  cold,  but  by  our  exertions  to  keep 
\\\)  a  brilhant  fire,  and  copious  draughts  of  black  pejiper  tea, 
which  we  made  in  a  little  kettle,  we  kept  quite  comfortable. 
This  process  lasted  until  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  the 
boat  returned  for  us,  having  twice  crossed  the  lake,  in  all  twelve 
miles.  We  stepped  on  board,  and  at  four  o'clock  her  third  trip 
across  during  the  night  was  finished.  One  half  mile  from  the 
shore,  surrounded  by  an  almost  unl)roken  wilderness,  stood  a  log 
cabin,  tenanted  by  a  man  with  his  family,  who  had  settled  down 
for  the  purpose  of  clearing  up  a  farm.  At  the  time  we  landed 
the  sky  was  overcast  with  dense  clouds,  and  the  darkness  was 
so  intense  that  I  could  not  sec  an  inch  before  my  nose  ;  I  felt 
the  force  of  that  trite  old  proverb,  "  It's  always  darkest  just  be- 
fore day."  To  the  above-named  cabin  we  were  piloted  through 
a  dense  forest,  which  was  interlaced  with  a  thick  growth  of  un- 
derbrush. We  made  our  way  along  as  entirely  unassisted  by  vi- 
sion as  though  there  were  no  such  thing.  By  the  aid  of  a  con- 
stant hallooing,  which  was  kept  up  at  the  log  cabin,  we  made 
a  direct  course  ;  and,  after  an  untold  number  of  stumbles  over 
old  windfalls,  and  jibes  from  the  limbs,  knots,  and  protruding 
boughs  of  trees,  we  reached  the  object  of  our  solicitude  hungry 
and  much  fatigued.  Here,  however,  the  hospitable  inmates  had 
anticipated  our  wants  ;  a  good  meal  of  bread,  baked  beans,  and 
pork,  with  coflec,  was  in  waiting  ;  and  after  heartily  participa- 
ting of  the  same,  we  threw  ourselves  upon  a  coarse  bed,  and  were 
soon  lost  in  a  profound  and  undisturbed  sleep.  When  we  awoke 
the  shades  of  night  had  entirely  disappeared,  the  sun  shone  beau- 
tifully, and  our  ears  were  saluted  with  the  wild  notes  of  a  thou- 
sand feathered  songsters,  whose  sweet  warblings  lent  a  peculiar 


4 


m 


FOREST    LIFE. 


(;7 


;mcii  as  the 
From  the 
rush  on  the 
3  in  its  pro- 
ions  to  keep 
pepper  tea, 
iomlortable. 
•,  when  the 
1  all  twelve 
T  third  trip 
lie  from  the 
stood  a  log 
3ttled  down 
)  we  landed 
irkness  was 
lose  ;  I  felt 
:est  just  be- 
ted through 
owth  of  un- 
isted  by  vi- 
d  of  a  con- 
,  we  made 
mbles  over 
protruding 
ide  hungry 
umates  had 
beans,  and 
y  participa- 
l,  and  were 
we  a^'oko 
hone  beau- 
of  a  thou- 
a  peculiar 


» :' 


enchantment  to  the  woodland  scenery  which  skirted  the  shores 
of  the  lake,  so  strikingly  in  contrast  with  our  dismal  introduction 
the  night  previous,  that  wc  almost  fancied  ourselves  awaking  up 
in  some  fairy  land. 


CHATTEIl   III. 

Method  of  constructing  Camp  and  Hovl'!. — Timber. — Covering. — Arrange- 
ment (if  Interior. — Tlie  lied. — Deacon  Seat. — Ingenious  Method  of  mak- 
ing a  Si'at. — Cooking:  superior  Metliod  of  Baking. — Tlie  nightly  (.'amp 
Fire. —  liiiihiiilies  from  taking  Fire. — A  Camp  consumed. — Men  burned  to 
Diatli. —  Hiijoyment. — Tiie  new  Camp:  Dedication. — A  Song. — A  Story. 
— .New  Order  in  Architecture. — Ox  HovcL — Substitute  for  Lime. — Tho 
Devotedness  of  tho  Team.ster. — Fat  and  lean  Cattle. —  Swampitig  Roads. — 
Clumps  of  I'inc. — The  ptiints  of  Interest  in  a  Logging  Uoad. — The  Team- 
ster's I'ath. — Regret. — The  peculiar  Enjoyment  of  Men  thus  engaged. 

Till::  re-out  fit  alluded  to  in  the  preceding  pages  having  arrived 
upon  the  territory  previously  explored,  arrangements  are  at  once 
made  to  locate  and  build  our  winter  camps.  To  determine  upon 
the  best  ]K)int  is  by  no  means  an  easy  task,  it  being  very  diifi- 
cult  to  lix  upon  the  location  in  a  strange  and  imperfectly-ex- 
])lored  forest.  AYood  and  water  privileges  are  to  be  taken  into 
the  acco\int  ;  a  central  position  in  respect  to  the  timber  ;  the 
landing,  the  locating  of  the  main  roads,  kc,  are  to  be  attended 
to.  To  combine  all  these  qualities,  where  we  can  see  only  a 
few  rods  in  advance  on  account  of  the  trees  and  thickets,  and  our 
work  must  necessarilv  cover  hundreds  of  acres  of  wild  land,  it 
must  be  confessed  is  no  ordinary  task.  I  have  seldom  taxed  my 
judgment  as  severely  on  any  subject  as  in  judiciou.sly  locating  a 
logging  establishment. 


4 


'i 


f.  ; 


08 


TIIR    PI\K-TREE,   OR 


Thcst 


sc  proliriiiiiaries  being  so 


ttletl 


wo  coiniaencc     y\'j 


hi 


mer- 


rily" our  c;mip.  The  lop  strata  of  leaves  and  turf"  are  removed 
I'rom  the  spot  upon  wliich  tlie  structure  is  to  be  erected  ;  this  is 
necessary,  as  we  should  otherwise  bo  in  great  danger  ot"  lire  Irom 
the  dry  turf.  "While  this  process  is  going  forward,  others  aro 
engaged  in  felling  the  trees  on  the  spot,  and  cutting  them  the 
length  determined  upon  for  our  edifice.  The  wck  commences 
by  tlu•o^,ving  the  larger  h)gs  into  a  scpuire,  notching  the  ends  to- 
gether. Thus  one  tier  after  another  is  laid  up  until  the  walls 
attain  the  pro])er  height,  the  smallest  h)gs  being  used  to  fmish 
out  the  uj)per  tiers.  In  form  they  resemble  a  tin  baker,  rising 
some  eight  feet  in  front,  while  the  roof  pitches  down  within  two 
or  three  ieet  of  the  ground  in  the  rear.  A  double  cam})  is  con- 
structed by  putting  two  such  squares  face  to  face,  with  the  lire 
in  the  middle.  The  Hpruce-tree  is  generally  selected  for  camp 
building,  it  being  ligiit,  straight,  and  quite  free  from  sap.  The 
roof  is  covered  with  shingles  from  three  to  four  feet  in  length. 
Tliese  are  S})lit  frtnn  trees  of  straight  and  easy  rift,  such  as  tho 
Pine,  Spruce,  and  Cedar.  The  shingles  are  not  nailed  on,  but 
secured  in  their  place  by  laying  a  long  heavy  pole  across  cacli 
tier  or  course.  The  roof  is  finally  covered  with  the  boughs  of 
the  Fir,  Spruce,  and  Hemlock,  so  that  when  the  snow  falls  upon 
the  whole,  the  warmth  of  the  camp  is  preserved  in  the  coldest 
weather.  The  crevices  between  the  logs  constituting  the  w^alls 
are  tightly  calked  with  moss  gathered  from  surrounding  trees. 

The  interior  arrangement  is  very  sim])le.  One  section  of  the 
area  of  the  camp  is  used  for  the  dining-room,  another  for  tho 
sleeping  apartment,  and  a  third  is  a])})ro])riated  to  the  kitchen. 
These  apartments  aro  not  denoted  by  partitioned  walls,  but  sim- 
ply by  small  jioles  some  six  inches  in  diameter,  laid  upon  the  floor 
of  the  cam])  (Mdiich  is  the  pure  loam),  running  in  various  direc- 
tions, and  thus  forming  square  areas  of  dillerent  dimensions,  and 
appropriated  as  above  suggested.     The  head-board  to  our  bed 


i 


VI 


"  rijdit  nicr- 

circ  removed 

cted  ;  this  is 

r  ot"  lire  IVuiii 

[,  otliers  aro 

iv^  the  111  tlio 

coiiiineiices 

the  eudri  lo- 

til  llie  walls 

sed  to  liuisli 

baker,  risiiif^ 

1  within  two 

^aiii})  is  cou- 

villi  tlie  lire 

ed  fur  camp 

a  sap.     Tlio 

it  in  len<rth. 

such  as  the 

lih-d  on,  hut 

across  eacli 

houL^hs  of 

falls  upon 

Jie  coldest 

jr  the  walls 

ni<^  trees. 

ction  of  tho 

ler  for  tho 

le  kitchen. 

Is,  hut  sim- 

on  the  floor 

rious  direc- 

usions,  and 

to  our  hed 


iMBit   iTririi  ■nrirm  IiMh 


1 


FOREST    LIFE. 


71 


consists  of  one  or  more  loj^s,  wliich  form  also  the  back  wall  of 
the  camp.  The  foot-board  is  a  small  pole,  some  four  or  six  feet 
IVoin  the  ilre.  Our  bedstead  is  mother  earth,  ujton  whose  cool 
but  maternal  bosom  we  strew  a  thick  coating  of  hemlock,  cedar, 
and  lir  boughs.  The  width  of  this  bed  is  determined  by  the  num- 
ber of  occupants,  varying  from  ten  to  twenty  feet.  Bed-clothes 
are  suited  to  the  width  of  the  bed  by  sewing  quilts  and  blankets 
together.  The  occupants,  as  a  general  thing,  throw  oif  their 
outer  garments  only  when  they  'Uurn  iu"  for  the  night.  These 
hardy  sons  of  the  forest  envy  not  those  who  roll  on  beds  of  down  ; 
their  sleep  is  sound  and  invigorating  ;  they  need  not  court  the 
gentle  spell,  turning  from  side  to  side,  but,  quietly  submitting, 
sink  into  its  profound  depths. 

Directly  over  the  f(^ot-pole,  running  parallel  with  it,  and  in 
front  of  the  fire,  is  the  ^'deacon  scat."  I  think  it  would  puzzle 
the  greatest  lexicographer  of  the  age  to  define  the  word,  or  give 
its  etymology  as  applied  to  a  seat,  which  indeed  it  is,  and  noth- 
ing more  nor  less  than  a  seat  ;  but,  so  far  as  I  can  discover  from 
those  most  deeply  learned  in  the  antiquarianism  of  the  logging 
swamp,  it  has  nothing  more  to  do  with  deacons,  or  deacons  with 
it,  than  with  the  pope.  The  seat  itself,  though  the  name  be  in- 
volved in  a  mysteiy,  is  nothing  less  nor  more  than  a  plank  hewn 
from  the  trunk  of  a  Spruce-tree  some  four  inches  thick  by  twelve 
inches  wide,  the  length  generally  corresponding  with  the  width 
of  the  bed,  raised  some  eighteen  inches  above  the  foot-pole,  and 
made  stationary.  This  seat  constitutes  our  sofa  or  settee,  to 
Vvhich  we  add  a  few  stools,  which  make  up  the  principal  part  of 
our  camp  furniture.  Should  any  of  my  readers  ever  be  situated 
beyond  the  reach  of  cabinet-makers,  but  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
forest,  I  may  introduce  them  into  the  secret  of  chair-making  with- 
out the  necessity  of  any  tools  except  an  ax.  Split  the  top  part 
of  the  trunk  of  a  Spruce  or  Fir-tree  in  halves,  cut  a  stick  of  the 
right  length  upon  which  three  or  four  stout  limbs  grow  ;  trim  ofi' 


«        A 


1 


72 


THE   PINE-TREE,  Oil 


tlio  limbs  of  a  sufficient  Icnf^th  to  suit  your  fancy  ;  smooth  tlio 
piece  of  timber  to  which  they  adhere  by  hewing,  and  your  seat 
is  completed.  I  can  assure  the  reader  that  tiic  instances  arc 
rare  in  which  it  becomes  necessary  to  send  them  to  the  cabinet- 
maker for  repairs,  especially  to  have  the  logs  glued  in. 

The  luxury  of  a  temporary  table  ia  now  pretty  generally  en- 
joyed, with  plates,  knives  and  forks,  tin  dippers  for  tea  and  coli'ee, 
and  sometimes  cups  and  saucers.  Formerly  the  deacon  seat  was 
used  instead  of  a  table,  and  a  large  frying-pan  served  for  a  plat- 
ter for  the  whole  crew.  Around  this  the  men  would  gather, 
each  putting  in  his  bread  or  potatoe,  and  salt  fish,  to  sop  in  the 
pork  fat ;  and  never  did  king  or  courtier  enjoy  the  luxuries  of  a 
pahice  more  exrpiisitely  than  do  our  h)ggors  this  homely  fare.  On 
tlie  St.  Croix  lliver,  lumbermen  generally  adhere,  from  choice,  to 
the  original  custom  of  eating  from  the  frying-pan.  Bread  and 
beans  arc  baked  in  a  large  "Duch  oven,"  which  is  placed  in  a 
hole  dug  in  the  earth  by  the  side  of  the  fire,  and  entirely  covered 
with  hot  coals  and  embers.  In  this  position  it  is  allowed  to  re- 
main until  the  contents  are  done,  when  the  ashes  and  cover  arc 
removed.  I  need  not  presume  to  inform  the  skillful  cook  that 
this  mode  of  baking  is  unequaled.  Our  camp-fire  is  made  on. 
the  ground  next  to  the  front  wall,  which  is  sometimes  protected 
by  a  tier  of  large  stones,  but  in  other  instances  we  simply  set  up 
two  short  stakes,  against  which  enormous  back-logs  rest.  After 
supper,  each  night  unfailingly  a  very  large  fire  is  built  to  sleep 
by.  Some  of  the  wood  used  is  so  large  that  it  often  burns  twenty- 
four  hours  before  being  entirely  consumed.  The  amount  of  fuel 
made  use  of  in  building  one  camp-fire  would  supply  an  ordinary 
fire  a  week. 

It  is  not  an  unfrequent  occurrence,  of  course,  for  camps  to  take 
fire  in  this  exposed  situation,  but  some  one  generally  discovers? 
it  in  season  to  extinguish  it  by  the  timely  application  of  snow  or 
water.     Instances  have  occurred,  however,  iu  which  crews  have 


1 

f 


;  smooth  the 
and  your  seat 
instances  arc 
0  the  cabinet- 
lin. 

f^enerally  eu- 
,ea  and  collee, 
aeon  seat  was 
red  lor  a  ]»hit- 
tv'ould  ji^ather, 
to  sop  in  the 
luxuries  oi"  a 
u'ly  fare.     Ou 
roni  ehoice,  to 
Bread  and 
is  placed  in  a 
itirely  covered 
[lUowed  to  ro- 
and  cover  are 
It'ul  cook  that 
e  is  made  on 
[nes  protected 
simply  set  up 
s  rest.     Alter 
built  to  sleep 
jurns  twenty- 
mount  of  fuel 
y  an  ordinary 

camps  to  take 
ally  discovers 
on  oi'  snow  or 
h  crews  have 


FORKST    LIFK. 


73 


been  consumed  with  the  camp.  I  recollect  an  inslance  in  wliicli 
a  earn]),  on  one  ol'tlie  tributaries  ot'the  Penob.seot,  took  lire  duriuf^* 
the  niirbt  while  the  inmates  were  asleep,  and  three  out  oi"  lour 
men  were  burned  to  death.  In  view  ol' tliis  liability,  the  rool'of 
our  camps  are  not  so  strongly  fastened  down  but  tluit,  in  tiio 
event  of  a  retreat  being  cut  oil' from  the  door,  the  united  elli)rts 
of  the  iniiUites  can  burst  it  up,  and  thus  make  their  cscajjo. 
These  things,  however  serious  in  some  instances,  arc  but  little 
thought  of  or  cared  for. 

Around  this  good  camp-fire, 

"  Willi  niirlh  to  lighten  iluty," 
gather  the  crew  after  the  toils  of  the  day,  to  enjoy,  as  best  they 
may,  our  long  winter  evenings  ;  and  around  no  fireside  where 
tliere  are  equal  responsibilities,  intelligence,  arul  many  more  lux- 
uries, can  be  found  more  real  contentment,  or  a  greater  degree 
of  enjoyment. 

Here  rises  the  voice  of  song  upon  the  wings  of  the  wiuter 
night  storm  as  it  rolls  past  with  the  sublimity  of  an  Alpine  tem- 
pest. Here,  also,  are  rehearsals  of  wild  adventure,  listened  to 
with  all  the  interest  which  isolated  circumstances  usually  lend 
even  to  little  matters. 

The  fu'st  night  we  lodged  in  one  of  our  ncwly-ereclcd  camps, 
its  dedication  was  proposed.  It  was  moved  and  carried  by  ac- 
clamation that  Hobbs  should  sing  us  a  song,  and  that  "Nick" 
shouUl  give  us  one  of  his  yarns. 

liohhs,  who,  by-the-way,  was  a  short,  thick-set  little  fellow, 
with  a  chubby  red  face,  and,  withal,  rather  musical  in  his  turn, 
gave  vent  to  the  following  beautiful  song,  dedicated  to  the  "Lum- 
bermen" by  the  poet  Whittier. 

"  Comrades!  round  onr  woodland  quarters 
Sad-voiced  autumn  grim-es; 
Thickly  down  iIk^so  swelling  waters 
l''l(»at  liirt  lallen  loaves. 


D 


4' 


74 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR 


Through  tlio  lull  find  naked  timber, 

(Jolumn-liko  and  eld, 
Gleam  tiic  sunsets  of  November 

With  their  skies  of  gold. 

O'er  us,  to  the  South-land  heading, 

Screams  the  gray  wild  goose  ; 
On  the  night-frost  sounds  the  treading 

Of  the  stately  moose. 
Fast  the  streams  with  ice  are  closing, 

Colder  grows  the  sky, 
Soon,  on  lake  and  river  I'rozeu, 

Shall  our  log-piles  lie. 

When,  with  sounds  ofsmother'd  thunder, 

On  some  night  of  rain, 
T/'ko  and  river  break  asunder 

Winter's  weaken'd  chain, 
Down  the  wild  March-flood  shall  bear  them 

To  the  saw-mill's  wheel, 
Or,  where  Steam,  the  slave,  shall  tear  them 

With  his  teeth  of  steel. 

Be  it  starlight,  be  it  moonlight 

In  these  vales  below. 
When  the  earliest  beams  of  sunlight 

Streaks  the  mountain's  snow, 
Crisps  the  hoar-frost  keen  and  early 

To  our  hurrying  feet. 
And  the  forest  echoes  clearly 

All  our  blows  repeat. 

When  the  crystal  Anibijt'jia 

Stretches  broad  and  clear. 
And  Millnoket's  pine-black  ridges 

Hide  the  browsing  deer; 
Where,  through  lakes  and  wide  morasses, 

Or  through  rocky  walls. 
Swift  and  strong  Penobscot  passes. 

White  with  foamy  falls. 


'? 


«*? 


FOREST    LIFE. 


75 


WIi(!re,  tlirouj,'h  cloiiils,  aio  glimpses  given 

or  Kutaliiliii's  sides — 
If'xk  ami  IniL'st  piled  to  lioaven, 

Torn  and  plowed  l)y  slide.s! 
Far  helow  tlie  Indian  trapping 

la  tlu;  sMiisliiiuj  warm, 
Far  alxjve  tlu;  snow-cdoud  \vrnpr)in" 

Half  the  peak  in  storm! 

VVlipro  aro  mossy  carpets  bettor 

Than  the  Tertiian  weaves, 
And,  than  Kustern  perfumes,  sweeter 

Seem  the  fading  leaves ; 
And  a  mnsic  wild  and  sf)lemn 

From  tlie  I'ine-tree's  height, 
Koiis  its  vast  and  sea-like  volumo 

On  the  wind  of  night. 

Make  wo  liere  our  camp  of  win-    v 

And  ihruugh  sleet  and  si„)w 
rilch  knot  anil  beechen  splinter 

On  our  hearth  shall  gl«»vv; 
llfVii,  with  mirth  to  ligh'-m  duty, 

We  shall  lack  alono 
Woman,  with  her  smile  ofbeanty, 

And  her  gentle  tone. 

Bui  her  hearth  is  brighter  burnin'' 

For  our  work  to-day, 
And  her  welcome  at  returning 

Shall  our  loss  repay. 
Strike,  then,  comrades!     Trade  is  waiting 

On  our  nigged  toil, 
Far  ships  waiting  for  the  freighting 

Of  our  woodland  spoil ! 

Ships,  whose  traffic  links  these  liighlanda 

Jilcak  and  cold  of  ours 
With  the  eitron-plantod  islands 

Of  a  clime  of  llovvers; 


ff 


# 


70 


THE    I'lXE-TREE,   OR 


I-- 


:\ 


To  our  fi'osts  tho  tribute  bringing 

Of  (iturnul  hoiits, 
In  our  lap  of  vvintcrr  flinging 

Tropic  fruita  und  sweets. 

Cheorly  on  tho  ax  of  labor 

Lot  the  siiuboaiu  daiici*, 
Bettor  than  the  Hash  of  saber 

Or  the  gleam  of  huice  ! 
Strike  !     With  every  blow  is  given 

Freer  siui  anil  sky, 
And  tho  long-hid  earth  to  heaven 

Looks  with  wond'ring  eye. 

Loud  behind  us  grow  the  luurnmrB 

Of  tho  ago  to  coine — 
Clang  of  smiths,  and  tread  of  fanners 

Hearing  harvest  home ! 
Here  her  virgin  lap  with  treasures 

Shall  tho  green  earth  hll — 
Waving  wheat  and  golden  mai/e-eara 

Crown  each  beechen  hill. 

Keep  who  will  the  city's  alleys, 

Take  the  smooth-shorn  [)lain, 
Give  to  us  the  cedarn  valleys, 

Rocks  and  hills  of  IVhiine! 
Tn  our  North-land,  wild  and  woody, 

Let  us  still  have  part^ 
Rugged  nurse  and  mother  sturdy. 

Hold  us  to  thy  heart! 

Oh,  our  free  hearts  beat  the  warmer 

For  thy  breath  of  snow, 
And  our  tread  is  all  the  firmer 

For  thy  rocks  below. 
Freedom,  hand  in  hand  with  labor, 

Walketh  strong  and  brave; 
On  the  forehead  of  his  neighbor 

No  man  writeth  Slave! 


FORl'ST    LIFi:. 


77 


Unither  louks  on  equal  l)rothur, 

Manliooil  looks  ou  nioii— 
Bo  tliy  fiiiiiri',  (ill  our  inothor, 

As  thy  jifiMl  Imtii  been — 
Iloaveinviiiil,  liki;  tliy  motintfiiii-gniinlians, 

With  tln'ir  stiir-crovviiH  dcckM, 
And  thy  wutciiwonl,  liko  Kiilahdiii's 

Cluud-swfpt  piiio,  '  EuKCT  !'  " 

Then  followed  tlio  "yam."  Now  "Nick,"  as  wc  familiarly 
called  him,  was  a  tall,  sinewy  man,  the  exact  counterpart  of 
liohhs  in  ])hysieal  ])roj)ortion.s,  full  of  fire,  and  fond  of  adventure. 
He  had  spent  nnich  of  his  life  in  the  woods,  and  in  dillerent  jiarts 
of  the  country,  Homewliat  apt  in  his  observations,  ami  oli-hand 
in  liis  style  of  conversation. 

Lookiiif^  thoujzhtfully  into  the  fire  a  moment,  as  if  to  call  an 
item  from  his  exj)erience,  he  proceeded  as  follows  : 

'•  In  llie  month  of  ;<e])tcmber,  lb — ,  havinrr  liusiness  to  transact 
with  a  man  en<rajTed  in  timher-makiuf^  on  Bartholomew's  River, 
New  Jhunswick,  I  set  out  on  horseback,  late  in  the  afternoon,  for 
his  eneamj)ment,  distant  some  ten  miles.  Part  of  the  distance  I 
had  to  pass  throujjh  a  dense  wilderness,  where  a  path  had  been 
made  by  cutting  away  the  underbrush  and  small  trees  ;  the  rest 
of  the  journey  could  only  be  prosecuted  by  riding  in  the  bed  of 
the  stream,  which  at  the  time  was  quite  dry. 

"  In  answer  to  the  inquiries  made  at  the  tavern  where  I  hired 
my  horse,  I  was  told  that  the  camp  was  on  the  bank  of  tlic 
stream,  and  could  be  easily  seen  from  the  channel  throu;ih  which 
I  was  to  i)ass.  The  sun  was  about  one  hour  high  when  1  entered 
the  woods  ;  but  I  had  not  proceeded  half  way  through  when  the 
heavens  suddenly  became  overcast,  which  admonished  me  that 
I  was  about  to  experience  one  of  those  terrible  thunder-tempests 
which  sometimes  occur  at  the  close  of  a  sultry  September  day, 
and  are  remarkable  for  the  copious  torrents  of  rain  which  fall  in 
the  vicinity  of  lakes  and  rivers,  surrounded  by  the  wilderness. 


I 


7fi 


THE    riNK-TRER,  OR 


I  iV'lt  8O1U0  solicitudo  to  rCi'ich  tho  river  boforo  it  bocumi!  d.iilc, 
]»ii1,  tho  roii<rliut's.s  of  lliu  roiid  pruveiilcd  niu  Irom  {j^oiiif,'  laster 
than  a  walkiiif,'  })iu'e,  and,  cro  I  liad  accoinpli.-liud  tlie  Joiiniey 
tliroii<,^li  llio  Ibrost,  the  rain  poured  down  in  torrents.  Tlie  lliunder 
of  lieavenH  artillery  was  tremendous,  and  the  siiootin^*'  chains  of 
lire  hissed  throuj^rji  the  tops  of  tho  trees  like  darting'  liery  serjjeuts, 
hero  and  there  sjiendin<j^  their  force  U[)on  the  lofty  spire  oi'  souio 
^n«,Mntio  Pine,  splittinj^  and  shiverin'jf  its  trunk  into  thousands  of 
l»ieees,  and  strewinjif  them  iar  away  upon  tho  ^'round.  ISij^ht, 
luistcned  by  the  •fathorin<r  tem[)est,  wra[iped  the  whole  scene  in 
])rolbund  daikness  ;  thus,  amid  tho  deafcnin^^  j)eals  of  thunder, 
tho  dartinjj  forks  ol"  li<,ditnin^  which  shot  around  mo  in  every  di- 
rection, and  torrents  of  rain,  my  horse  fj[ro])ed  his  way  silently 
along,  bearinj^me  u})on  his  back.  At  lon<,4h,  throu<,'h  iimeh  dan- 
ger, 1  reached  tho  chamiol  of  tho  river,  to  onoouutor  now  dangers 
and  dilliculties. 

"  When  1  entered  the  channel,  the  rain  had  not  materially  af- 
fected tho  amount  of  water  then  (lowing  ;  but  1  had  not  ])roceed- 
cd  far  when  the  swollen  and  foaming  current,  which  had  ae- 
cumulated  from  hill-sides  and  numerous  brooks,  rushed  by  me, 
rendering  riding  imminently  hazardous.  To  be  prepared  lor  the 
worst,  I  divested  myself  of  my  boots  and  tho  horse  of  his  saddle. 
In  vain  did  i  strain  my  eyes  to  gain  a  glinij)sc  of  tho  camp  each 
time  tho  lightning  dispelled  the  darkness,  which  gave  me  a  mo- 
mentary glim])so  of  all  around.  Concluding  at  length  that  1  had 
gone  too  far  down  tho  river,  I  turned  my  horse  and  breasted  the 
foaming  current,  resolving  to  renew  my  exertions  in  an  up-rivor 
course.  But  the  water  by  this  time  was  so  high,  and  the  chan- 
nel so  treacherous,  that  I  concluded  to  gain  the  .shore  of  tho 
stream,  and  make  my  way,  if  possible,  along  its  banks,  though 
densely  studded  with  trees  and  bushes  growing  in  the  wildest 
confusion.  Owing  to  the  prccipitousness  of  the  banks,  1  was  ini- 
ttblo  to  gain  my  object,  and  was  therefore  compelled  to  remain 


FOnr.ST    LFFK. 


79 


llie  journey 
i'lio  tlimuler 
1^'  cliuiiis  of 
•ry  !<i'r[)L'iils, 
lire  ol"  .souio 
lioiisuiids  of 
id.     Ni^rht, 
jIo  scciiic  in 
of  tliundiT, 
ill  ovcry  di- 
vay  silently 
iiiucli  (laii- 
evv  daii;^eis 

ilerially  af- 
lot  proceed- 
ill  had  ac- 
led  by  ino, 
red  lor  the 
liis  f?addle. 
eanip  each 
!  me  a  iiio- 
that  I  had 
'easted  tlic 
m  up-river 

the  chan- 
ore  of  the 
ks,  tlioun-h 
he  -uildest 

J  was  im- 
to  remain 


in  the  stream.  A;,Miu  and  apain  I  e.-j.^ayed  to  escape  to  tlie  »lioro, 
but  Imm  the  same  causes  failed  (d'  its  accomplisiiment.  My  sit- 
uation was  becoming,'  niDre  critical  every  moment.  Sometimes 
my  liorse  was  makinj,'  iii.s  way  over  lar^^'e  rocks  ;  then,  suddenly 
(!omiu£^  to  deeper  portions  of  the  channel,  would  lose  hi.s  footing 
entirely,  and  swim  with  me  upon  his  hack.  All  this  time  the 
darkness  was  intense,  the  tempest  ra«,'ed  with  muibated  fury, 
while  the  already  swollen  current  continued  to  increase.  The 
solemnity  of  the  midni«,Mit  hour,  rendered  terrible  by  the  tempest 
overheatl  and  threatenin*,'  waters  beneath,  tilled  my  mind  with 
painfnl  apprehen.^ions.  The  awful  prandeur  of  (Jod  seemed  to 
])ass  before  me,  proclaimed  in  the  voice  of  his  thunder.  Death, 
llir  jiidfrment,  and  my  sins  stood  before  me  ;  aiul  1  felt  constrained 
to  implore  His  protectiufr  mercy.  At  len«,'th  the  lightninjr  revealed 
a  camp  just  u])on  the  bank.  Here  I  was  able  to  leave  the  chan- 
nel of  the  river,  who.se  banks  had  so  lonfr  held  me  a  j)ri.soner. 

"  Siippo.<in<;  that  I  hfid  found  the  object  of  my  hazardous  search, 
I  dismounted,  and,  llin<riii<»'  the  bridle  from  my  horse's  head,  left 
him  to  shiit  for  him.self,  and  hastened  to  enter  ;  but,  to  my  amaze- 
ment, it  i)rovcd  an  old,  deserted,  and  solitary  camp.  Here,  how- 
ever, 1  resolved  to  worry  out  the  remainder  of  the  ni^'ht.  The 
wind  cho})})in<T  round  to  the  nortliwest,  it  ceased  raining  and 
^^rew  very  cold,  so  that  before  daylij^ht  the  rain-drops  froze  upon 
the  l)iishes ;  and,  bejiinniuf^  to  be  very  chilly,  I  fourul  that  exerciso 
was  necessary  to  keep  me  warm.  The  darkness  was  yet  so  great 
that  1  could  see  nothing  ;  and,  for  fear  of  thrusting  my  liead 
against  the  roof,  I  threw  myself  down  and  crawled  about  on  my 
hands  and  knees,  mitil,  wearied  with  my  exertions,  I  felt  the 
need  of  repose.  I  then  dug  a  hole  down  in  the  old  boughs,  which 
had  been  used  by  the  former  occupants  as  a  bed,  crawled  into  it, 
and  covered  myself  entirely  under  the  rubbish,  except  my  face. 
For  a  few  moments  I  thought  I  should  be  able  to  sleep,  but  my 
hopes  were  speedily  dissipated.     1  had  not  lain  long  before  I  was 


J 


II 


w 


"■•% 


h 


■i 


80 


THE    riNE-TREE,  OR 


covered  with  myriads  of  fleas.  Spriuj^iiig  iVom  my  restless  eoueli, 
1  sliook  and  brushed  them  from  my  clothes  ;  and  as  all  hopes  of 
rest  were  dismissed,  I  continued  to  exercise  myself  as  well  as  I 
could  until  the  grizzly  rays  of  early  morning  dispelled  the  dark- 
ness which  had  so  long  held  me  a  prisoner.  As  soon  as  it  be- 
came sullieiently  light,  I  set  out,  in  my  stockings,  in  j)ursuit  of 
the  camp,  which  I  had  failed  to  find  the  night  previous.  Pro- 
ceeding up  river  about  two  miles,  I  carnc  at  once  upon  the  camp. 
It  was  ksabbath  morning;  the  inmates  were  indulging  themselves 
in  a  late  nap,  and,  notwithstanding  my  urgent  circumstances,  I 
resolved  to  wait  a  little,  and  give  them  a  gentle  surprise.  You 
may  be  assured  that  my  wretched  appearance  fully  qualilied  mo 
for  the  occasion.  My  feet  were  still  partially  covered  with  the 
ragged  remnants  of  my  stockings  ;  my  clothes  were  considerably 
torn  and  thoroughly  wet,  and  the  shives  of  the  old  bough  bed 
were  sticking  into  them  nearly  as  thickly  as  a  fleece  of  porcui»ine 
quills  ;  my  hat,  rendered  soft  by  the  thorough  drenciiing  it  had 
received,  settled  down  over  my  head  and  ears  ;  the  black  dye 
from  the  hat  had  run  down  in  little  lines  all  over  my  face,  leav- 
ing their  dry  channels  distinctly  delined  ;  my  long  and  tangled 
hair,  together  with  my  haggard,  care-worn  countenance,  rendered 
me  altogether  an  object  which,  under  any  circumstances,  was 
calculated  to  inspire  terror.  Stepping  up  to  the  camj),  I  gave  a 
sudden,  loud  rap,  without  any  further  demonstration,  which  awoke 
the  crew.  As  they  naturally  supposed  themselves  far  away  from 
any  human  beings,  a  knock  at  their  door  thus  early,  and  on  a 
»*5abbath  morning,  the  more  surprised  them,  and  awakened  tlieir 
curiosity.  ' \Yho  or  what  the  d — 1  can  that  be?'  I  overheard 
"ome  one  within  say.  Presently  a  man,  who,  by-thc-way,  knew 
me  perfectly  well,  came  to  the  door,  and,  with  some  caution, 
opened  it.  I  met  him  with  a  fixed  and  vacant  stare,  without  ut- 
tering a  word,  lie  returned  my  gaze  with  an  expression  of  in- 
quisitive astonishment. 


FOREST   LIFE. 


81 


slless  coiiuh, 
all  hopes  of 
as  woU  as  I 
3(1  the  dark- 
)on  as  it  bo- 
il pursuit  of 
vious.  Pro- 
m  the  camp. 
^  tlieniselvc'S 
iimstaiices,  I 
•prise.  You 
(jualilied  mo 
•etl  with  the 
considerably 
1  bough  bed 
of  porcupino 
-'hiug  it  had 
e  black  dyo 
y  lace,  leav- 
aud  tangled 
CO,  rendered 
•stances,  was 
np,  I  gave  a 
-liieh  awoke 
•  away  from 
y,  and  on  a 
ikeiied  tlieir 
.  overheard 
way,  knew 
ne  caution, 
without  nt- 
!bsion  of  in- 


♦' '  You  don't  seem  to  know  me,'  I  obeenx-d.  The  tones  of  my 
Tdicc  increased  his  astonishmeni,  for  tiu'y  seemed  familiar,  but 
the  strangeness  ot  my  (ippraidncc  confoundetl  him,  and  1  could 
not  relrain  from  laughing  oulrigiit.  Finally,  half  suspecting 
wli(»m  1  Diiisht  be,  he  exclaimed,  with  much  energy,  'Nick!  in 
the  iHimr  of  ii — *■/,  '/.s  it  ymi.V  I  soon  satisfied  them  on  this 
])t)int,  wiiile  1  brielly  related  my  night's  adventure.  Their  as- 
tonishment was  great  at  seeing  me  in  such  an  extraordinary 
}! light,  but  not  greater  than  was  my  satisiaetion  to  meet  them 
and  to  obtain  the  succor  which  1  needed.  After  breakfast,  some 
of  the  men  went  in  pursuit  of  my  horse,  saddle,  and  boots.  The 
last  two  they  found  on  a  little  island  in  the  stream,  where,  for 
fear  of  losing  them  by  the  ilood,  1  had  lashed  them  to  a  stump 
the  niglit  before." 

Having  thus  finished  his  story  and  replenished  his  pipe,  the  old 
man  leaned  back  against  the  camp  walls  and  enveloped  himself 
in  a  cloud  of  smoke,  while  he  listened,  in  turn,  to  the  various  in- 
cidents in  the  experience  of  others,  of  which  his  own  had  been 
sugiifestive. 

Finally,  after  .some  little  discussion  as  to  the  precise  location 
which  each  should  occupy  on  the  new  bed,  all  hands  "  turncl 
in."  to  live  over  again  the  fortunes  of  the  day  in  the  fantastic 
dreams  of  night. 

Having  comjdeted  our  own  cabin,  we  proceed  next  to  con- 
struct a  hovel  for  the  oxen,  which  are  yet  behind.  In  erecting 
tins,  the  same  order  in  architecture  is  observed  as  in  that  of  the 
camj),  the  timber  of  which  it  is  composed,  however,  being  much 
larger  than  that  with  which  our  own  habitation  is  constructed. 
Witii  the  trunks  of  trees  the  walls  are  carried  up  nearly  ecpial  in 
height,  leaving  one  side,  however,  enough  lower  than  the  other 
to  give  a  moderate  pitch  to  the  roof,  which  is  covered  with  the 
same  kind  of  material  as  tliat  of  the  camp.  In  tlic  camp  tor  the 
workmen  there  is  no  Iloor  but  the  earth  ;  the  ox  hovel,  however, 


^ 


"'•^ 


82 


TIIK    PINE-TUnK,    OR 


has  a  flooriiif^  made  of  .small  poles  laid  clor?t;ly  tofrf'tlicr,  and 
hewud  down  ^vi1ll  some  de<.n'cc  of  smoothness  with  the  adz,  and 
in  the  (hial  linish  the  crevices  in  the  walls  are  plastered  with  clay 
or  ox  manure.  A  temporary  shed  is  thrown  up  hi  IVont,  which 
serves  as  a  depot  for  hay  and  provender. 

No  little  pains  arc  hestowed  upon  the  conveniences  desijzncil 
for  the  team.  Witii  the  exception  of  sportin<]f  horses,  never  ha^  o 
1  witnes.-;ed  more  untirinj^  devotion  to  any  creature  than  is  be- 
stowed upon  the  ox  when  under  the  care  of  a  ffood  teamster. 
The  last  thinj^  before  "  turninir  in,"  he  li::hts  his  Innlern  and  re- 
pairs to  the  ox  hovel.  In  the  morninL^  l)y  tiie  iM'ej)  <>f  day.  and 
often  before,  his  laithful  vii?its  are  rejieatetl  to  hay,  and  })rovender, 
and  card,  and  yoke  u}i.  Is'o  man's  berlh  is  so  hard,  amon^''  all  tho 
hands,  as  the  teamster's.  Every  shoe  and  nail,  every  hoof  and 
claw,  and  neck,  yokes,  chains,  and  sled,  claim  constant  attention. 
While  the  rest  of  the  hands  are  sitting  or  lounrrinjr  around  the  lib- 
eral lire,  shifting  for  their  comfort,  after  exposure  to  the  M'inter 
frosts  through  the  day,  he  nuist  repeatedly  go  out  to  look  afier  IJie 
comfort  oi' the  sturdy,  faithful  ox.  And  then,  for  an  hour  or  tv\o 
in  the  morning  again,  while  all,  save  the  cook,  are  (•k)siiig  u})  the 
sweet  and  unbroken  «»,lumbers  of  tli?  night,  so  welcome  and  H"<-- 
essary  to  the  laborer,  he  is  out  amid  the  early  frost  with,  1  had 
almost  said,  the  care  of  a  mother,  to  see  if  "  oltl  Turk"  is  not 
loose,  whether  "  Bright"  favors  the  near  fore-foot  (which  felt  a  lit- 
tle hot  the  day  before),  as  he  stands  ujiou  the  hard  lloor,  and  then 
to  ins])ect  "  Swans"  provender-trough,  to  see  if  he  has  eaten  his 
meal,  for  it  was  carefully  noted  that  at  tho  "  watering-place" 
last  night  he  drank  but  little  ;  while  at  the  further  end  of  the 
"tie-up"  he  thinks  he  hears  a  little  clattering  noise,  and  present- 
ly "  little  Star"  is  having  hi,  shins  gently  rapjied,  as  a  token  of 
his  master's  wish  to  raise  his  foot  1o  see  if  some  nail  has  not 
given  way  ui  the  loosened  shoe  ;  and  this  not  for  onc(>,  but  every 
day,  with  numberless  other  cares  coimected  with  his  charge. 


P  I 


FOREST    LIFE. 


S3 


frdlier,  and 
K'  adz,  and 
il  willi  clay 
Voiil,  which 

L^s  (It'.^iiTHcJ 

never  lia^  e 
ihaii  i?;  bu- 

l  teaiii.«lor. 
erii  and  re- 
oi"  day.  and 

provender, 
ion<,r  all  tho 
•y  hooi"  and 
t  attention. 
Lind  the  lib- 

the  winter 
ok  after  llie 
10 ur  or  \\\o 
>sinur  up  the 
le  and  ii"c. 
will),  1  had 
irk"  i.s  not 
;h  felt  a  lit- 
)r,  and  llicn 
s  eaten  hi.s 
rino-.pljicc" 
end  of  the 
nd  prcsent- 
a  token  of 
ail  ha.s  not 
.  hut  every 
eharire. 


A  eonijietenl  hand  in  tlii.<  profe?.«ion  jr^'n^^r^illy  calculates  to  do 
a  irood  winters  haulin^^  and  briufr  his  t^am  out  in  the  spriiifj  in 
(piite  as  ^'ood  ile-sh  as  when  they  eoinnienfed  in  the  early  part  of 
tiie  season.  But  as  in  all  other  mxtten».  m  in  this,  there  are 
exceptions  to  the  <reneral  rule,  fr^orne  tearnxt'fg  .spoil  their  cat- 
tk\  and  l)rin<^  them  (/  ♦  in  the  sprinir  mi.serably  poor,  an<l  nearly 
strained  to  death.  Sucli  a  practice,  however,  can  not  be  refrard- 
ed  as  I'ither  merciful  or  economical.  So  far  as  true  policy  is  con- 
cerned, il  is  nnich  belter  to  keep  a  team  well.  What  may  ho 
^■■aini.'d  by  hard  pushinjr  durinjr  the  former  part  of  the  season  will 
be  more  than  made  up  durinj;  the  latter,  when  the  teams  are 
modrratfly  ur<red  and  well  kept,  and  then  you  have  a  good  team 
still  tor  future  labor. 

Having  completed  our  winter  residences,  next  in  ordev  comes 
tlie  business  of  looking  out  and  cutting  the  "  main,''  and  some  of 
tiif  principal  "branch  roads."  These  roads,  like  the  veins  in  the 
human  body,  ramily  the  wibhjrness  to  ail  the  principal  "  clumps" 
and  '•  groves  of  jiine"  embraced  in  the  permit. 

We  have  here  no  "  turnpikes"  nor  rail-way.--,  but  what  is  often 
more  interesting.  No  pencilings  can  excel  the  graceful  curves 
lound  in  a  main  road  as  it  winds  along  through  the  forest,  uni- 
form in  M'idlii  of  track,  hard-beaten  and  glas.=y  in  its  surface, 
])olislied  by  the  sled  and  logs  which  are  so  frequently  drawn  over 
il.  I'jach  fall  of  snow,  when  well  trodden,  not  unlike  repeated 
coats  of  paint  on  a  rough  surlace,  serves  to  cover  up  the  uneven- 
n<  >:^  of  the  bottom,  which  in  time  becomes  very  smooth  and  even. 
And  besides,  no  .street  in  all  our  cities  is  so  beautifully  studded 
Mitli  trees,  whose  spreading  brandies  art'ectionately  interlace, 
forming  graceful  archways  above.  Alonjr  this  road  side,  on  the 
way  to  {\\o.  landing,  rim.s  a  serpentine  pathway  for  the  "knight 
of  the  goad,"  who.^e  deviations  are  marked  now  outside  this  tree, 
then  behind  tiiat  "  wiudiall,"  now  again  intercepting  tiie  main 
roud,  skipping  along  like  a  dog  at  one's  side.     To  pass  along  this 

D  2 


•l 


fi 


84 


TIIK    PINE-TRRE,    OR 


road  ill  iiiid-winler,  one  would  liardly  suspei't  {]\o  dclnrinitics 
\vhi<  li  tlie  dissolving  snows  reveal  iii  llie  spriii;:— -ilu*  Hturnp.s  aii(l 
kuoi!-\  skids  and  roots,  witli  a  lull  sliaro  of"  nmd-sli»ngli;j.  Mii)ass- 
able  to  all  excc])t  man,  or  animals  untrammi'led  with  the  harness. 

In  the  j)roeess  of  making  these  roads,  the  iirst  thing  in  ordei 
is  to  look  out  the  best  Ir-ation  tor  them.  This  is  done  by  an  ex- 
perienced hand,  who  "  spots"  the  trees  where  he  wishes  the  road 
to  be  "  swamped."  We  usually  begin  at  the  landing,  and  cut 
back  toward  the  principal  part  oi"  the  timber  to  be  hauled. 

In  constructing  this  road,  first  all  the  underbru.sli  is  cut  and 
thrown  on  one  side  ;  all  trees  sttintling  in  its  range  are  cut  close 
to  the  ground,  and  the  trunks  of  prostrated  trees  cut  olf  and 
thrown  out,  leaving  a  space  from  ten  to  twelve  feet  wide.  The 
tops  of  the  highest  knolls  arc  scraped  oil",  and  small  poles,  called 
skids,  are  laid  across  the  road  in  the  hollows  between.  Where 
a  brook  or  slough  occurs,  a  pole-bridge  is  thrown  across  it. 

These  preparatory  arrangements  are  entered  u}){»!i  and  prose- 
cuted with  a  degree  of  interest  and  pleasure  by  lumbermen 
scarcely  credible  to  those  unacquainted  with  sucli  a  mode  of  liie 
and  with  such  business.  Though  not  altogether  unacquainted 
with  'Hher  occupations  and  other  sources  of  enjoynient,  still,  to 
such  i-jcnes  my  thoughts  run  back  for  the  happier  portions  of 
life  and  experience. 

I  have  attended  to  varior=  ^'■'uds  of  labor,  but  never  hove  I 
entered  ujjon  any  half  so  pk-'KSMig  as  that  usually  performed  in 
the  "logging  swamp."  Although  greatly  jeoparding  my  repu- 
tation for  taste,  I  will  utter  it.  Positively,  it  is  deliglitful.  I 
have  since  had  come  years'  experience  in  one  '^f  the  professions, 
in  the  enjoyment  of  some  of  the  relinements  of  life,  yet,  if  it  could 
be  done  consistently,  I  would  now  witli  eagerness  exchange  my 
house  for  the  logging  camp,  my  books  for  the  ax,  and  the  city 
full  for  those  wilderness  solitudes  whose  delightful  valleys  nnd 
swelling  ridges  give  me  Nature  uncontaminated — 1  had  almost 


FORRST  Lirn. 


85 


<lflii|-iiiitips 
Hliuiip,'  aiiU 
(•li;-,  Mi|»ii.«s- 
Lhe  harness, 
iif^  ill  ordei 
c  by  an  ex- 
es the  road 
ig,  and  cut 
inlcd. 

is  cut  and 
i"e  cut  close 
lilt  oli"  and 
k'ide.  The 
oles,  called 
n.  Where 
>ss  it. 

and  prose- 
uiuherinen 
lode  of  lile 
([uainted 

it,  still,  to 

)rtious  of 

;r  have  I 
"onncd  iu 
my  repu- 
:htf'ul.  I 
rof'essions, 
il  it  could 
an<re  my 
the  city 
leys  and 
d  almost 


said,  iincursed,  IVesli  I'rom  th(>  hand  of  the  Creator.  To  vr  I"  'd' 
those  thin<r'^  makes  the  husllinfj;  city  isceni  duil  and  in  .-oii-e. 
I'ain  w  ould  I  hie  away  once  more  to  those  pleasant  })aslime  labors 
llap]»ily,  all  tastes  arc  not  alike.  Yet  tiiere  are  lew  ■who  oi 
onterini^  a  beautiful  native  forest,  would  not  experience  deli^h:  , 
the  varieties  of  trees  set  out  by  the  hand  of  Nature,  their  grace- 
i'ul  forms  and  spreadiiifj;  branches  interlocked  with  neighborly 
aiieetion  and  recognition  ;  the  liarmoniou^  coiij'uMon  (d"  uiuler- 
grovvth  :  the  bi'autii'ul  mosses,  the  ever-varying  surface — old  .'ige, 
manhood  and  youth,  childhood  and  inlancy — massive  trunks  and 
I  ill  It'  sjinuits  ;  the  towering  Pine  and  creej)iiig  AVinter-greeii,  in- 
termingled by  the  artless  genii  of  these  wild  retreats,  all  combined, 
serve  to  explain  the  (UtackniciU  of  the  Al)origines  to  their  forest 
abodes.,  and  give  to  savage  life  the  pt^wer  of  onchantment. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Tnkons  of  Winter. — Tlio  Aiiticipaf  ion. — IntriHliiction  of  Team. — Difficuhips 
altendin;^'  it. — I'ncoinfurtalilo  Uoalin;.'. — The  C()nti-a.-.t. — M>'tli<i(l  of  cross- 
ing' iStreanisand  Rivers. — The  Docility  of  the  0.\. — Facilities  of  Tiinipikta. 
— Stopping-places. — Arrival. — An  Advt-nture. — Ton  Oxeu  in  the  Ice. — 
Method  of  taking  them  Out. — An  uncomfortahlt!  Night. — The  •  idjiiglit  Ex- 
cursion.— O.vcn  running  at  large  in  the  Wildernes>. — Dove;-  pments  of 
Memory. — Logging. — Division  of  Lal)or. — Ilow  to  nianajre  in  ue  abvuco 
of  a  Cook. — "Uncle  Nat" — Anecdote.  —  Felling  I'ines.  —  Ingenuil'  of 
Choppers. — Preparatory  AiTangements. — Tiie  H(i!»-sled. — Method  of  Op- 
eration described. — The  Excitement. — Comparison. — Immediate  Length 
of  I'ine-trees. — Conclusion. 

By  the  time  these  arrangements  arc  made,  serious  indications 
nf  winter  appear  in  cold,  freezing  nights  and  light  fails  of  snow. 
It  is  now  about  time  to  look  for  the  arrival  of  the  (earn  and  ex- 
tra hands. 


:^>-v,-;^fei*-^'H.*.'-'': 


m 


THE    riNE-TRRE,    OR 


; 


•t     9 


This  ovc'ut  Avu  aiilicijialo  ^villl  as  much  iiilorost  as  voyagers 
are  wont  to  lut'l  wlieii  llicy  moct  upon  llie  ocean  alter  several 
months  at  sea.  Letters  and  newspapers  arc  expected,  and,  when 
received,  perused  with  avidity.  New  acquaintances  are  to  bo 
ma(h',  new  tools  to  be  examined,  and  every  thing  foreign,  liow- 
cver  insignificant,  is  an  object  of  interest. 

The  introduction  of  the  team  to  winter  rpiarters  is  always  at- 
tended with  more  or  less  trouble  :  much  less,  however,  of  late 
than  in  former  years.  Then,  all  the  chains  and  other  imi)lements 
connected  with  the  business,  together  with  provisions  for  the  crew 
and  provender  for  the  oxen,  enough  to  last  until  the  swamps, 
rivers,  and  lakes  were  frozen,  so  as  to  allow  teams  to  pass  over 
them,  were  boated  in  tiic  manner  described  in  a  I'ormer  chapter, 
wliicli  retpiired  many  trips,  and  were  contumed  until  a  lato  pe- 
riod in  the  fall. 

To  the  latest  trips  an  additional  and  most  uncomfortable  in- 
convenience is  added  to  the  many  hardships  of  boating  })rovisions. 
This  is  when  the  ice  makes  on  our  poles  while  in  the  act  of  pass- 
ing up  over  ra])ids.  Oiten  our  hands  become  so  cold  and  still' 
as  to  render  it  very  dilRcull.  to  hold  on  to  the  icy  instrument. 
The  mariner  may  sto]»  a  moment,  even  in  a  gale,  while  at  the 
yard-arm,  to  blow  his  freezing  fingers  ;  but  not  so  with  the  lum- 
berman witli  a  loaded  boat  in  a  ra])id  current  :  every  finger  is 
needed  every  moment,  as  life  and  property  would  be  endangered 
by  paying  even  .slight  atti'ution  to  cold  'ingers. 

Where  the  nature  of  the  route  will  allow  it,  and  an  early  start 
is  desired,  our  teams  arc  attached  to  a  long  sle  ',  lightly  loaded, 
wliieh  is  dragged  over  miry,  rough  roads.  In  crossing  large 
8trcam>:,  we  unyoke  the  oxen  and  swim  them  over.  If  we  have 
no  boat,  ;<  raft  is  construcled,  ujion  which  our  ellects  are  trans- 
ported, whfvi  we  re-yoke  and  pursue  our  route  as  before.  Our 
oxen  are  oiu  u  very  reluctant  to  enter  the  water  "while  the  anchor 
ice  runs,  and  the  cold  has  already  begun  to  congeal  its  surface. 


FOREST  i.irn. 


87 


IS  voyagers 
tor  several 
and,  when 
i  are  to  bo 
reign,  how- 

always  at- 
ver,  ot"  late 
inii)leiiieiits 
or  the  crew 
e  .swamps, 
)  pass  over 
er  chapter, 
a  lato  pc- 

ortablo  in- 
})rovisioiis. 
act  {)I'])ass- 
aiul  still' 
iistruiueut. 
lile  at  the 
h  the  Jmn- 
y  riii',an*  is 
iidangercd 

early  start 
tly  loaded, 
;siiifT  lar<Te 
f  we  have 
are  trans- 
ore.  Our 
ho  anchor 
ts  surlace- 


Ihit  an  ox  hardly  knows  liow  1o  rcruso  coiiijihance  with  his  nias- 
ler's  wishes,  so  suhinissivc  is  ho  in  his  disposition. 

Of  late,  since  roads  have  been  cut,  and  cvvn  '•turnpikes"  niado 
a  considerable  ])ortioii  ot  tlu'  ('istance  uj)  the  main  rivers,  such  as 
the  "  Calais  and  Houlton  Road"  on  the  St.  Croix,  ami  the  "  .Mili- 
tary Roatl"  on  the  Penob.scot,  whicli  connect  with  other  less  per- 
iod tliorou<rhf'ares,  and  linally  terminate  in  connnon  swamp  roads, 
our  conveyances  are  much  easier,  and  the  busint'ss  of  takin^^  the 
team  on  to  the  trround  is,  and  may  be  safVdy,  deferred  until  frt)sts 
and  snows  a(hnit  of  a  more  a'^reoable  mode  ot"  travel. 

AVhat  is  called  a  team  is  variously  comjjosod  of  from  four  to 
six.  and  oven  eijfht  oxen.  During  the  months  of  Novoud»or  and 
December,  after  the  ground  and  swamps  are  fro/en,  and  early 
snows  fall,  our  team  is  attached  to  a  "long  sled,"  loaded  with 
])rovisions,  tools,  <^rc.,  accompanied  with  a  now  recruit  of  hands. 
Leaving  home  and  the  sceiu's  of  civilization,  slowly  m'o  move  for- 
ward to  join  those  who  had  preceded  us  to  make  pro[)arations 
lor  our  reception.  After  several  days'  journoyiugS:  putting  up 
at  night  at  places  ereetod  and  sup[)hod  for  the  convenience  of 
such  travelers,  and  at  suitable  distances  on  the  route,  we  ('iually 
reacdi  our  new  homo.  Our  arrival  is  no  less  agreeable  to  our- 
selves than  welcome  to  our  comrades.  But  there  are  incidents 
scattered  all  the  way  along,  and  seldom  do  wc  ])orform  such  a 
jounu'y  without  oxporioncing  .something  worth  relating. 

On  one  occasion,  lato  in  the  fall,  we  started  for  our  winter 
quarters  uj)  river.  AYe  had  traveled  about  one  hundred  miles, 
j)assing  along  uj)  the  military  road,  then  south  u])on  the  Calais 
rf)ad  to  Baskahogan  Lake,  which  we  wore  to  cross,  our  cam|)S 
being  on  the  oj)j)osite  side.  "\Yo  readied  the  borders  of  the  lake 
late  in  the  afternoon.  The  ice  was  in/t  so  thickly  frozen  as  was 
anticipatt'd.  so  that  the  practicability  of  crossing  seemed  exceed- 
ingly ))r(d)leunitical.  Having  boon  long  on  the  way,  m'o  were 
anxious,  if  possible,  to  arrive  in  camp  that  night.     The  shores  of 


88 


THE    PINE-TREE,   OR 


I  r 


'    ! 


Iho  lake  were  so  swampy  that  it  was  deeimMl  impraclicable  to 
perloriii  the  route  around  it,  and  it  was  finally  doterinined  to  make 
an  uliijrt  to  cross  U])on  the  ice.  We  had  twelve  oxen,  which  were 
disposed  of  in  the  follovviuf,^  order  :  the  li^ditest  yoke  of  oxen  was 
selected  and  driven  in  yoke  before  to  test  the  strenf^th  of  the  ice, 
and,  in  case  the  loaded  teams  should  break  throu«^h,  to  be  used  to 
jxill  them  out.  These  were  our  reserve.  The  next  in  the  line 
of  march  was  a  pair  of  oxen  attached  to  a  sled,  with  hay,  &c. 
Next  in  order  was  a  four-ox  team  ;  these  were  also  attached  to 
a  sled,  loaded  with  hay  and  provisions  ;  and,  iinally,  to  brinj?  up 
the  rear,  still  another  four-ox  team,  with  a  loaded  sled — all  of 
which  were  strung  out  at  suitable  distances,  to  prevent  too  much 
weig'ht  comiiif^  upon  any  one  point,  thus  rendering  our  ))assage 
more  safe.  The  word  was  given,  when  we  all  moved  forward, 
intending  first  to  gain  a  point  which  ran  out  into  the  lake,  cov- 
ered with  a  thick  small  growth.  The  ice  cracked  and  buckled 
beneath  our  feet  at  every  step.  Proceeding  in  this  way,  we 
gained  the  point  in  safety.  It  had  by  this  time  become  late,  and 
the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  gilded  the  tops  of  the  towering 
pines,  which  peered  far  up  in  the  air  above  the  surrounding  forest. 

The  night  was  very  cold,  and  the  wind  swept  up  the  lake  with 
a  penetrating  chill,  which  made  us  button  up  our  garments  close- 
ly to  prevent  its  too  ready  access  to  our  bodies.  Having  gained 
the  point  in  safety,  we  were  emboldened  to  set  forward  again 
upon  the  main  body  of  the  lake,  which  was  yet  to  be  cros.sed. 
Here  the  ice  seemed  less  capable  of  sustaining  our  weight  than 
in  the  cove,  which,  from  its  protected  position,  had  probably  con- 
gealed sooner  than  the  main  lake,  which  was  more  exp.ised  to 
the  action  of  winds. 

Here  the  ice  gave  more  alarming  indications  of  its  incapacity 
to  hold  us.  We  had  not  proceeded  more  than  three  fourths  of 
a  mile  when  the  hindermost  team  broke  through,  sled  and  all, 
which  was  very  naturally  accounted  for,  as  the  teams  which  pro- 


FOKKST    LI  IK. 


89 


ilicablo  to 
d  to  inako 
hicli  wero 

oxen  was 
of  the  ice, 
be  used  to 
II  the  line 
I  hay,  Sco. 
ttached  to 
)  briuf^  up 
jcl— all  of 
too  much 
ir  ))assa<^e 
I  forward, 
lake,  cov- 
d  buckled 

way,  \VG 
!  late,  and 

towering 
ing  forest . 
lake  with 
nits  elose- 
iig  gained 
ird  again 
crossed, 
ight  than 

ably  con- 
'cposed  to 

icapacity 

jurths  of 

and  all, 

hich  pro- 


icded  cracked  ami  weakened  the  ice.  Tiic  alarm  was  given 
along  the  line,  when  tlie  other  teams  stopi)ed  ;  and  while  we  wero 
preparing  w  extricate  those  already  in,  the  next  team  of  four 
oxen  dropped  in  also  ;  and  liiially  they  were  all  in  at  once,  ex- 
cept the  reserve  jiair.  Had  they  kept  in  motion,  jirohably  tho 
foremost  teams  might  have  escaped  ;  but,  iijion  stopping,  the  ico 
gradually  settled,  when  in  they  went.  There  we  were  on  that 
bleak  spot,  with  the  shades  of  niglit  fast  settling  down  upon  ns, 
and  ten  oxen  struggling  in  the  benumbing  waters  :  business 
enough,  thought  we. 

^Standing  U])on  the  edge  of  the  ice,  a  irum  was  placed  l)y  tho 
side  of  each  ox  to  keeji  his  head  out  of  the  water.  We  unyoked 
one  at  a  time,  and,  throwing  a  rope  round  the  roots  of  his  horns, 
the  warjt  was  carried  forward  and  attached  to  the  little  oxen, 
whose  services  on  this  occasion  were  very  neci'ssary.  A  strong 
man  was  jdaced  on  the  ice  at  the  edge,  so  that,  lilting  the  ox  by 
his  horns,  he  was  able  to  press  the  ice  down  and  raise  his  shoul- 
<ler  uj)  on  the  vd<:e,  when  the  warp-oxen  wonld  pull  them  out. 
For  half  an  hour  we  had  a  lively  time  of  it,  and  in  ;i.  almost 
incredible  short  time  we  had  them  all  safely  out,  and  drove  them 
back  upon  the  point  nearly  a  mile.  It  was  now  very  dark.  VVe 
left  our  sleds  in  the  water  with  the  hay,  pulling  out  a  few  arms- 
ful,  which  we  carried  to  the  shore  to  rub  the  oxen  down  with. 
Poor  fellows  I  they  .seemed  nearly  chilled  to  death,  while  they 
shook  as  if  they  would  fall  to  jjiece-S. 

We  built  up  a  large  lire,  and,  leaving  the  princij)al  ])art  of  tho 
crew  Ijchind  to  take  care  of  the  oxen,  I,  with  several  of  the  hands, 
started  to  lind,  if  jmssible,  the  camps,  where  M'ere  waiting  tho.so 
who  had  been  previously  engaged  in  making  arrangements  l()r 
the  winter.  This  was  esteemed  by  some  rather  risky,  as  it  was 
getting  very  dark,  and  we  did  not  know  exa  tly  which  way  to 
shape  our  cour.se.  But  the  j»ro.'<pect  seemed  gloomy  and  unin- 
viting to  remain  upon  that  bleak  point  all  night,  and,  besides, 


i 


'I 


^ 


1 ) 


u 


\]t 


I 


II 


h. 


00 


TIIR    PINK-TREE,    OR 


wc  Avislied  lliu  {issistriuco  of  the  '"imp's  cruw  in  lakiui^  our  teams 
ovci-  next  (lay.  Delay  was  not  to  be  tlioiijj;lit  of.  Wo  tliereloio 
started.  A  H(|uall  of  snow  cnue  U})  wlien  we  were  midway 
acrofis,  wliieh  completely  bewildered  ua,  and  we  beeame  diviiled 
in  ojiinion  a.s  to  the  ])ro[)er  course  to  steer.  Tenacious  ol'my  own 
views,  I  resolved  to  jtursue  the  coiu'se  which  aj)[>('ar('d  to  mo 
rif^ht,  wlien  tlie  others  consented  to  follow.  Finally,  after  several 
hours  of  hard  travel,  we  pained  the  shore,  not  far  from  l\u  road 
which  led  back  to  the  camp,  about  half  a  mile  distant  in  tho 
woods.  We  were  here,  apain,  })u//led  to  know  whether  the  camp 
lay  at  the  ri^ht  or  left.  Settlin*,^  that  matter  l»y  "(uess,  as  Yan- 
kees often  do  other  thinjrs,  we  traveled  alon«;  by  tho  shore  about 
one  fourth  of  a  mile,  when,  to  our  preat  relief,  wo  came  to  the 
road,  up  which  we  jiassed,  and  reached  the  carnj)  a  iiiile  alter 
inidui^fht,  hunrrry  and  fatigued.  AVe  found  our  comrades  simu'ly 
(puirtered  and  souiuUy  sK'epin<if.  IielVeshin<^  ourselves  with  iiot 
tea,  bread,  and  beef,  we  turned  in  and  slept  imtil  dayli;i'ht,  wlien, 
after  breakfast,  all  hands  started  to  rejoin  those  left  behind.  Wo 
were  with  them  in  a  few  hours.  Poor  fellows  I  they  had  had  a 
pretty  imcomfortablo  season,  not  one  moment's  slec})  during  tho 
ni<^ht,  and  scantily  provided  with  food,  while  tho  oxen  fared 
liariler  still.  We  succeeded  in  {i;etting  out  of  tho  ice  all  but  one 
load  of  hay,  ■which  we  left  behind.  !Not  venturinj^  to  cross  di- 
rectly, we  now  followed  round  the  lake,  close  in  shore,  and  finally 
reached  our  winter  quarters  in  safety,  and  without  further  acci- 
dent. 

The  task  of  takinj?  oxen  on  to  the  ground  every  fall  is  very 
considerable,  especially  when  we  go  far  into  the  interior,  as  we 
frequently  do  nearly  two  hundred  )niles.  This  labor  and  ex- 
pense is  sometimt'S  obviated  by  leaving  them  in  the  s])ring  to 
shift  for  themselves  in  the  wilderness  and  on  the  meadows,  where 
they  remain  until  autunm,  when  they  are  hunted  up.  During 
their  wilderness  exile  they  thrive  finely,  and,  when  found,  ap- 


IB 


FORr?;T    UFK. 


01 


!^  our  ti'.'irns 

0  tliL'ioHno 

ro    midway 

me  divided 

1  of  my  own 

ircd  to   me 

Ik'i'  sever.'il 

111  ill"   road 

lai.t  ill  llie 

•r  tiie  camp 

!.ss,  us  Yaii- 

ihore  about 

anie  to  the 

lilllc  after 

ides  suiiirly 

is  with  hot 

ifrlil,  wlieu, 

liiiid.      We 

had  had  a 

(hiriuf,^  the 

oxcii  taivd 

all  hut  one 

o  cross  di- 

aud  liually 

rtlier  acei- 

fall  is  very 
rior,  as  we 
)r  and  ex- 
;  s})riiif]f  to 
•\\s,  where 
I.  Diiriiif^ 
Ibuud,  ap- 


])ear  very  wild  ;  yet  wondcriii^^.  they  seem  lo  look  at  us  as  thou«;li 
tlicy  liad  somi^  liiiL''erinf»  recollection  of  liaviiijr  seen  us  hd'oro. 
It  is  otleu  very  <litlicult  lo  catcli  and  yoke  tluiii;  lmt,\\ith  all 
tlieir  wilduess,  they  evidently  show  si^Mis  of  pleasure  iti  the  rec- 
o;^fuiti()ii.  When  turui'd  out  iii  this  way,  however,  instances 
iiave  occurred  ulirn  lliry  have  never  ajzain  liccii  sct'u  or  hc-tird 
iVom.  In  some  cases  they  jirol»al)ly  ^'ct  mired  or  cast,  and  ilie  ; 
in  ollifis.  tliey  doulitless  stray  away,  and  fall  a  prey  to  hears 
and  wolves.  JJears  as  well  as  wolves  liave  been  known  to  at- 
tack oxi'ii.  An  iinlividual  who  owned  a  very  line  "  six-o\  team" 
turned  them  into  the  woods  to  br(»wse,  in  a  lU'W  rejrion  of  coiin- 
trv.  Late  in  llie  eveninji:,  his  attention  was  arrested  by  the  bel- 
low iii;i  of  one  of  them.  It  continued  Ibr  an  hour  or  Iw  >,  then 
ec.iscd  altoLU'lhcr.  The  niu'ht  was  verv  dark,  and,  as  tli  ■  o\  was 
supposed  to  be  more  than  a  mile  distant,  it  was  tliou<:lil  not  ad- 
visable to  venture  in  search  of  him  until  mornin<r.  .\s  soon  as 
daylight  ajex'ared,  he  started,  m  company  with  another  man,  to 
iuvestiL''ate  the  cause  of  the  uproar,  rassinj^^  on  about  a  mile, 
he  found  one  of  liis  l)est  oxen  laying  j>rostrate,  and,  on  examina- 
tion, there  was  found  a  bole  eaten  into  tlu'  thickest  jiart  of  his 
liiittl  (pi;irter  nearly  as  laru:e  as  a  hat  ;  not  less  than  six  or  ci^ht 
j)ouiids  ol'  llesh  were  pone,  lie  had  bled  prol'uscdy.  The  ground 
was  lorn  up  lor  rods  around  where  the  encounter  occurred  ;  the 
tracks  indicated  the  assailant  to  be  a  very  larfj^e  hear,  who  bad 
probably  worried  the  ox  out,  and  then  satiated  bis  ravenous  ap- 
pelile,  feastiiifr  upon  him  while  yet  alive.  A  road  was  bushe(l 
out  to  the  spot  where  the  poor  creature  lay,  and  he  was  pot  upon 
a  sled  and  hauled  home  by  a  yoke  of  his  com])anions,  where  the 
wound  was  dressed.  It  never,  however,  entirely  healed,  though 
it  was  so  far  im|  ,oved  as  to  allow  of  his  heinp  fattened,  after 
which  he  was  slaughtered  for  food. 

After  a  few  days'  respite,  and  as  soon  as  a  suflleient  quantity 
of  snow  has  fallen,  we  commence  haulinp  the  lops.     As  there 


v>*^^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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2.2 


I  '-  IIIIIM 


1.8 


U    III  1.6 


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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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's. 


02 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR 


.!     r 


are  several  departments  of  labor,  each  man  is  assijrned  to  some 
one  ol'  tlieni.  In  most  cases,  indeed,  ev^ery  iiand  is  hired  with 
the  distinct  understandin*^  that  he  is  to  perlbrm  a  particular  part 
of  the  labor,  and  the  wages  dilier  accordiiij,4y,  beinj^  regulated, 
also,  by  the  abi'ity  with  which  they  can  severally  till  those  sta- 
tions. 

First,  then,  comes  the  "boss,"  or  the  principal  in  charge. 
Then  the  choppers,  meaning  those  who  select,  fell,  and  cut  the 
logs,  one  of  whom  is  master  chopper,  Next  the  s\vam})ers,  who 
cut  and  clear  the  roads  through  the  forest  to  the  fallen  trees,  one 
of  whom  is  master  swamper.  Then  comes  the  barker  and  loader, 
the  man  who  hews  olftlie  bark  Iroin  that  part  of  the  log  wliich 
is  to  drag  on  the  snow,  and  assists  the  teamster  in  loading.  Then 
we  have  the  captain  of  the  goad,  or  teamster,  whom  we  have  al- 
ready alluded  to  ;  and  finally  the  cook,  whose  duty  is  too  gen- 
erally known  to  require  any  particular  description.  Every  crew 
is  not  supplied  with  the  last  important  character  ;  this  deJicieney, 
I  believe,  is  much  more  common  on  the  ISt.  Croix  than  on  the 
Penobscot,  where  the  mode  of  camp  life  and  fare  is  much  better 
attended  to.  When  we  have  no  person  specially  set  apart  to 
this  \vork,  the  crew  generally  take  turns,  to  do  which  there  is 
an  obligation  imposed  by  usage  and  common  consent  on  some 
rivers,  and  e.  ch  man,  therefore,  must  comply,  or  furnish  a  sub- 
stitute by  employing  some  one  to  act  for  him.  In  those  instances 
where  no  cook  is  provided,  we  take  turns,  a  week  at  a  time,  or 
each  man  consents  to  perform  some  particular  duty  in  cookery ;  for 
instance,  one  makes  all  the  bread,  another  the  tea  and  coli'ee,  and 
so  on  through  the  routine  of  camp  domesticism.  A  slight  degree 
of  rebellion  sometimes  manifests  itself  touching  this  business,  es- 
pecially before  matters  receive  their  regular  winter  mold.  One 
refuses  to  cook,  another  says  he  "  was  hired  to  do  something  else," 
while  another  says,  "I'm  d — d  if  I  cook  any  how."  I  recollect 
a  pleasant  occurrence  of  this  kind,  at  least  one  rendered  so  by 


FOREST    LIFE. 


93 


ed  lo  some 
liircd  with 
icular  part 
regulated, 
.  those  sta- 
in  charge, 
lid  cut  the 
ii})ers,  who 
1  trees,  one 
iiid  louder, 
log  wliieh 
ig.     Then 
e  liave  al- 
s  too  gen- 
Ivery  crew 
ileJiciency, 
an  on  the 
uch  better 
t  apart  to 
h.  there  is 
'■  on  some 
ish  a  sub- 
instances 
a  time,  or 
Dkery;  for 
!ofIce,  and 
lit  degree 
siness,  es- 
)ld.     One 
ing  else," 
recollect 
■ed  so  by 


the  clever  management  ol"  an  old  man  connected  with  the  crew. 
They  had  returned  to  camp  from  the  labors  of  the  day,  the  fire 
was  nearly  out,  and  nothing  prepared  for  supper.  Alike  fatigued 
and  hungry,  each  refused,  in  turn,  to  discharge  the  duties  of  cook, 
and  the  gloomy  prospect  presented  itself  of  a  suppcrless  niglit. 
"  Uncle  Nat,"  as  we  familiarly  called  him,  was  a  "jolly  old  soul," 
the  very  personification  of  good  nature,  corpulency,  and  quietude, 
possessing,  withal,  a  good  share  of  ingenious  wit ;  and,  from  his 
corpulency  and  asthmatical  tendencies,  reminding  one  of  a  small 
locomotive  by  the  puffing  and  blowing  consequent  on  physical 
exertion.  Now  how  to  settle  this  matter,  and  have  even  any 
number  of  volunteer  cooks,  at  once  occurred  to  "  Uncle  Nat." 
"Dear  me"  (his  favorite  expression),  "what  a  time  about  cook 
ing.  Why,  it  is  the  easiest  thing  in  nature  to  get  supper.  Now, 
boys,  if  you  will  all  wait  upon  me,  I'll  be  cook."  "Agreed! 
agreed  I"  was  the  ready  response  on  all  hands.  This  matter 
being  settled,  "Uncle  Nat"  very  deliberately  deposited  himself 
on  the  "  deacon  scat,"  and  commenced  drilling  the  volunteer  as- 
sistants. "Now,  Richard,  get  a  liltle  wood  and  kindle  up  the 
tire."  "  Isaac,  step  down  to  the  brook  and  fetch  a  pail  of  water  ;" 
"  and  you,  Mac,  while  the  fire  is  getting  under  way,  wash  a  few 
potatoes,  and  get  them  ready  to  put  on  when  the  pot  boils." 
"  Now,  Jake,  cut  a  few  slices  of  pork,"  continued  our  chief  cook, 
with  much  sang  froid,  "  and  put  it  over  the  fire  to  fry."  "  But 
you  were  to  get  supper,  Uncle  Nat."  "  Yes,  I  was  to  get  supper, 
but  you  were  to  wait  upon  me,"  says  he,  casting  a  significant 
glance  toward  Tom,  at  the  same  time  ordering  him  to  make  the 
dishes  ready.  Remonstrance  was  vain  :  they  had  agreed  to  wait 
upon  him,  if  he  would  be  cook.  Every  thing  was  arranged,  sup- 
per ready,  and  there  still  sat  the  old  gentleman — hadn't  stirred 
an  inch.  "Dear  me"  (deep  breathing),  "dear  me,"  said  Uncle 
Nat,  "I  have  got  supper,  and  'twas  one  of  the  easiest  things  in 
the  world."     The  "  boys"  are  caught — it  was  a  "  good  'un  ;"  and 


04 


Tiin  rrxE-TREE,  or 


i'.     I 


i!   1        il'' 


to  the  I'lijnymcnt  of  a  rclisliaLlo  supper  was  added  a  hearty  lauf^h, 
UiKde  Nat's  proposition  passed  into  a  ])y-\vord,  and  all,  over  after, 
were  ready  to  do  any  thing,  provided  they  could  be  "waited 
u^ion." 

In  the  jH'occss  of  talcing  logs  to  the  landing  from  the  swamp, 
the  ilrst  thing  in  order  is  to  select  the  tree.  The  direction  in 
which  it  is  judged  likely  1o  fall  is  determined  by  circumstances. 
First,  the  inclination  of  the  tree  as  it  stands  ;  and,  second,  the 
direction  and  power  of  the  wind.  Sometimes  this  matter  may 
be  governed,  where  the  tree  stands  very  erect,  by  under-cutting 
one  side  more  than  the  other  ;  to  which  an  expedient  is  added, 
when  necessary,  by  falling  one  tree  against  another.  Choppers 
can,  if  skillful,  lay  a  tree,  in  falling,  with  sufficient  accuracy  to 
hit  and  drive  a  stake  into  the  ground.  "VYlien,  however,  a  tree 
stands  upon  an  abrupt  hill-side,  wc  arc  apt  to  get  deceived.  It 
is  thrilling  business  to  bring  those  giant  Pines  down.  The  ground 
trembles  under  the  stroke,  M'hile  the  reverberating  echo  of  its 
fall,  as  it  rings  through  mountains  and  valleys,  may,  on  a  still 
morning,  be  heard  six  or  eight  miles.  Before  felling  the  Pine, 
small  trees  are  cut  for  bed-pieces,  the  Pine-tree  falling  across 
them  transversely,  to  prevent  it  from  becoming  too  deeply  im- 
bedded in  the  snow.  This  also  facilitates  the  barking  and  load- 
ing operation.  The  proper  place  being  selected,  the  trunk  of 
the  tree  is  cut  oif  while  the  "swampers"  have  been  directing 
their  road  to  the  spot.  The  "  barkers" — like  whalemen  leaping 
ujion  the  back  of  their  prize  with  their  cutting  spades — are  at 
once  at  work  with  their  axes,  hewing  the  bark  from  that  portion 
of  the  log  which  is  to  be  drawn  along  on  the  snow,  while  the 
other  end  is  to  rest  upon  the  sled.  The  "  teams"  next  approach 
the  scene  of  action,  drawing  after  Ihem  a  short  sled,  called  a 
"  bob-sled  ;"  probably  so  named  from  the  bobbing  motion  it  has 
while  drawn  over  the  rough  ground.  It  would  be  au  insult  to 
every  New  Enghinder's  intelligence  to  attempt  a  description  of 


evor  after, 
e  "waited 

le  swamp, 
irectiou  in 
iiiLstances. 
econd,  the 
atter  may 
ler-cuttinn^ 
-  is  added, 
Choppers 
jcuracy  to 
'■er,  a  tree 
eived.     It 
he  ground 
cho  of  its 
on  a  still 
the  Pine, 
iiii^  across 
leep]y  inl- 
and load- 
trunk  of 
directing 
'.n  leaping 
s — are  at 
it  portion 
kvhile  the 
approach 
,  called  a 
on  it  has 
insult  to 
'iption  of 


FORKST    LIFE. 


97 


this  sled ;  I  therefore  pass  it,  remarkiiif^,  by-the-way,  that,  con- 
sidering the  service  lor  which  it  is  designed,  it  is  made  very 
strong,  as  it  is  required  to  sustain  one  end,  or  more  than  half 
the  weight  of  the  larjjest  trees  upon  a  single  bar  :  in  some  cases 
several  tuns  burden  rest  upon  a  single  point.  While  this  bar 
alone  sustains  one  half  the  entire  log,  it  is  also  the  only  part  of 
the  sled  to  which  the  heavy  trunks  of  those  massive  trees  arc 
bound  ;  it  therefore  draws  as  well  as  sustains  the  load,  challeng- 
ing the  powers  of  six  and  even  eight  of  the  stoutest  oxen. 

In  the  process  of  loading,  the  bob-sled  is  placed  several  feet 
from  the  side  of  that  end  of  the  log  which  is  to  be  placed  upon 
it.  Then  a  large  skid,  from  four  to  eight  inches  in  diameter  and 
several  feet  in  length,  is  placed  near  the  large  bar  running  un- 
der the  log.  A  chain  is  next  attached  to  the  bar,  passing  now 
under,  then  over  the  log,  back  to  the  sled,  crossing  it.  It  is 
then  attached  by  other  chains  to  one  or  two  yoke  of  oxen,  whose 
united  strength  is  requisite  to  roll  one  end  of  it  upon  this  big 
bar,  to  which  it  is  bound  with  strong,  heavy  chains.  Of  late, 
the  tackle  and  fall  has  been  introduced  in  loading,  which  very 
much  facilitates  the  operation. 

The  six  oxen  are  now  attached  to  the  sled,  one  pair  of  them 
to  the  tongue  ;  the  others  are  attached  by  chains  in  advance  as 
leaders.  The  teamster  now  arranges  every  ox  in  the  most  ad- 
vantageous position,  passing  through  several  evolutions  with  his 
goad  stick  ;  then  giving  the  word  of  command,  they  settle  to  it. 
Slowly  it  moves  forward,  while  the  vociferations  of  the  animated 
teamster,  the  squatting-like  posture  of  the  hard-drawn  team,  in- 
dicate the  importance  and  interest  of  the  occasion  ;  and  the  bob- 
sled, as  though  it  were  a  thing  of  life,  actually  screams  out  at 
every  joint  as  if  in  keenest  agony  beneath  its  ponderous  load. 

The  reader  has  perhaps  been  present  at  a  "launching  ;"  the 
nervous  emotions  experienced  in  the  process  described,  including 
the  felling  of  the  gigantic  Pines,  the  skidding  and  hauling,  quite 


E 


98 


THE    PINT-TREE,  OK 


equal  those  awakened  at  the  launchinja:  of  a  vessel.  This  pro* 
cess  is  prone  throu^rji  with  several  times  each  day  diirinfr  the  win- 
ter (Sundays  excepted)  ;  really  it  is  like  ^oiiiir  to  launchipj:^  every 
day,  and  the  pleasurable  excitement  of  the  labor  renders  it  ex- 
tremely d'^lightful  to  most  who  arc  enj^aj^ed  in  it. 

The  general  custom  is  to  take  the  whole  trunk  of  the  tree  to 
the  landing  at  one  load,  when  its  size  will  allow,  wdicrc  it  is 
sawed  into  short  logs  from  fourteen  to  thirty  feet  in  length,  to  fa- 
cilitate the  driving  down  river.  I  have  cut  one  tree  into  five 
logs,  the  shortest  of  which  was  not  less  than  fourteen  feet.  I 
have  seen  them  hauled  eighty-two  feet  in  length,  resembling,  in 
their  passage  to  the  landing,  immense  serpents  crawling  Irom 
their  lurking-places.  Thus  we  continue  to  fell,  clear,  and  haul 
until  the  "  clump"  is  exhausted,  and  our  attention  is  again  di- 
rected to  another  school  of  these  forest  whales,  and  so  on  until 
our  winter's  work  is  completed. 

Formerly,  Pine-trees  grew  in  abundance  on  the  banks  of  rivers 
and  streams,  aiul  the  margins  of  those  wild  lakes  found  in  the  in- 
terior. Thousands  were  cut  and  rolled  into  the  water,  or  on  the 
ice,  and  perhaps  a  much  larger  number  were  so  near  the  landing 
as  to  require  merely  to  be  dragged  out,  thus  avoiding  the  labor 
of  loading,  in  which  case,  from  the  massive  size  of  the  trees,  it 
was  necessary  to  cut  them  into  short  logs.  Such  opportunities, 
however,  for  lumber  have  gone  by,  and  the  greater  portion  has 
now  to  be  hauled  from  a  considerable  distance.  A  greater  scarci- 
ty is  too  evidently  at  hand,  though,  were  every  Pine-tree  sound 
and  good,  no  end  to  the  quantity  might  yet  be  thought  of;  for, 
notwithstanding  the  immense  quantities  cut,  and  the  devastating 
fires  by  which  hundreds  of  millions  have  been  destroyed,  on  some 
rivers  it  still  abounds,  but  a  large  portion  of  Pine  is  found  in  a 
rotten  and  decayed  state  at  heart.  Having  long  since  come  to 
maturity,  that  peculiar  process  which  makes  its  impress  upon  all 
earthly  objects,  decay,  is  nowhere  more  general  in  its  depreda- 


1f 


FORE.^T    LIFE. 


90 


[.  This  pro* 
rinjr  tlio  will- 
nrliU'j:^  every 
Gliders  it  ex- 

if  the  tree  to 
,  M'licrc  it  is 
length,  to  fa- 
,ree  into  five 
teen  feet.  I 
esemblinfr,  in 
•awlinf^  from 
iar,  and  haul 
is  again  di- 
1  so  on  until 

inks  of  rivers 
ind  in  the  in- 
ter, or  on  the 
r  the  landing 
ing  the  labor 
■  the  trees,  it 
opportunities, 
r  portion  has 
reater  scarci- 
le-tree  sound 
ught  of;  for, 
e  devastating 
oyed,  on  some 
is  found  in  a 
ince  come  to 
ress  upon  all 
its  depreda- 


tions llian  among  the  noble  Pines  in  tlie  north  and  east.  There 
is  a  cancerous  disease  jieculiar  to  the  Pine-tree,  to  Avhidi  lumber- 
men give  the  original  name  of  ^*  Conic"  or  '' Ko/ikas."  The  man- 
ifestation of  this  disease  on  the  outside  of  the  tree,  usually  sev- 
eral feet  from  the  butt  end,  is  a  small  spot  of  a  brown  color, 
sometimes  resembling  gingerbread  in  a])pearance  and  texture, 
l»rotrii(ling  as  a  general  thing  only  to  the  surface,  and  varying  in 
size  IVom  a  ninepence  to  the  crown  of  a  h;it.  In  some  clum[)s 
of  Pine,  all  that  indicates  the  presence  of  this  disease  is  a  little 
yellow  pitch  starting  out  through  the  bark  and  trickling  down 
the  outside. 

The  luiinitiated  would  be  led  to  suspoct  but  little,  if  indeed  any, 
harm  from  an  a})])earance  so  slight  and  unnoticeable  as  that  pre- 
sented by  the  konkus.  It  exerts  no  influence  either  upon  the  size 
or  beautiful  proportions  of  the  tree,  as  those  most  seriously  af- 
fected, in  outward  appearances,  are  as  handsomely  grown  as  the 
most  perfect,  which  leads  to  the  conclusion  that  the  disease  does 
not  nuicli  aflect  them  until  quite  mature. 

On  cutting  one  of  these  trees,  the  infection  is  foimd  to  spread 
itself,  more  or  less,  throughout  the  trunk,  turning  the  wood  to  a 
reddish  color,  riiaking  it  spongy  in  texture  ;  and  while  the  fibrous 
portions  of  the  wood  retain  their  thread-like  straightness,  the  mar- 
rowy portion  or  flesh-like  membranes,  and  intermediate  layers  be- 
tween the  fibers,  appear  dry  and  of  a  milky  whiteness,  Some- 
times the  rot  shoots  upward,  in  imitation  of  the  streaming  light 
of  the  Aurora  Borealis ;  in  others  downward,  and  even  both  ways, 
preserving  the  same  appearance. 

Large  families,  and  even  communities  of  the  Pine,  arc  thus  in- 
fected, so  that  in  a  group  of  thirty  trees  perhaps  not  more  than 
half  a  dozen  short  logs  can  be  obtained. 

Frauds  are  sometimes  practiced  upon  those  M'ho  purchase  logs, 
by  driving  a  knot  or  piece  of  a  limb  of  the  same  tree  into  the 
konkus  and  hewing  it  oil'  smoothly,  so  that  it  has  the  appear- 


100 


THE    riNE-TREK,    OR 


auce  of  a  natural  knot,  but  the  disscctiiipf  process  at  the  eaw- 
mill  exposes  tlie  iinpositiun. 

Much  oi"  this  timber  is  hollow  at  the  butt,  a(l()iclinf,'  in  somo 
instances  fine  winter  retreats  for  bears,  where  they  den.  Wo 
have  a  hi«rh  time  of  it  when  we  chance  to  make  such  a  discov- 
ery. "A  few  rods  from  the  main  lojrgiiif?  road,  where  I  worked 
one  winter,"  said  Mr.  Johnson,  "  there  stood  a  very  larpfe  Pine- 
tree.  We  had  nearly  completed  our  winter's  work,  and  it  still 
Btood  unmolested,  because  from  appearances  it  was  sujjposed  to 
be  worthless.  While  passing  it  one  day,  not  quite  satisfied  with 
tlic  decision  that  had  been  made  ujion  its  quality,  1  resolved  to 
satisfy  my  own  mind  touchiiip:  its  value  ;  so,  wallowing  to  it 
throujrh  the  snow,  which  was  nearly  up  to  my  middle,  1  struck 
it  several  blows  with  the  head  of  my  ax,  an  experiment  to  test 
whether  a  tree  be  hollow  or  not.  When  1  desisted,  my  attention 
was  arrested  by  a  slijjfht  scratching  and  whining. 

"  Suspecting  the  cause,  but  not  quite  satisfied,  I  thumped  the 
tree  again,  listening  more  attentively,  and  heard  the  same  noise 
as  before  :  it  was  a  bear's  den.  Examining  the  tree  more  close- 
ly, I  discovered  a  small  hole  in  the  trunk,  near  the  roots,  with  a 
rim  of  ice  on  the  edge  of  the  orifice,  made  by  the  freezing  of  the 
breath  and  vapor  from  the  inmates. 

"  Hatisfied  now  of  the  character  of  the  prisoners,  I  communi- 
cated my  discovery  at  once  to  the  rest  of  the  crew,  who  imme- 
diately left  their  work  and  ran  like  a  pack  of  hounds,  jumping 
and  leaping  through  the  deep  snow.  We  kicked  the  snow  away 
from  the  roots  to  learn  the  place  of  entree,  which  we  plugged  up 
with  bits  of  wood,  after  removing  the  frozen  dirt  and  turf  with 
which  it  was  closed.  We  next  cut  a  hole  into  the  tree,  about  four 
feet  from  the  ground,  some  eight  or  ten  inches  in  diameter  ;  into 
this  a  pole  was  thrust,  to  '  stir  them  up'  and  prepare  them  to 
thrust  their  heads  out  below  when  the  hole  should  be  opened 
again 


f 


FOREST    LIFE. 


101 


at  the  Baw- 

liiif(  in  some 
ly  den.  Wo 
ich  a  (liscov- 
erc  I  worked 
y  larp^e  Piue- 
:,  and  it  still 
3  svii)i)osed  to 
satislied  with 
I  resolved  to 
llowiiif^  to  it 
idle,  1  struck 
iiiieiit  to  test 
my  attention 

thumped  the 
;e  same  noise 
e  more  close- 
roots,  with  a 
eeziug  of  the 

!,  I  communi- 
r,  who  imme- 
nds,  jumpinp^ 
le  snow  away 
e  plngjTcd  up 
md  turl"  with 
30,  about  four 
amcter  ;  into 
lare  them  to 
Id  be  opened 


"  Huvii'"  annoyed  them  sulliciently  to  induce  them  to  attempt 
an  c«?re8S  from  the  passaj^e  below,  the  oh>ta('le.s  were  removed, 
after  stationing'  two  men,  one  on  either  side,  with  their  axes  to 
dispatch  them — when  the  old  bear  thrust  out  her  head.  A  se- 
vere wound  was  inflicted,  which  sent  her  back  growiiiip^  and 
•ruashiiifj^  her  teeth.  A«rain  thrustiiipr  the  pole  throuf^h  the  iipper 
aiierturc,  we  })unched  and  jibed  her  for  some  minutes  before  slie 
could  be  induced  to  make  a  second  elU)rt  to  escape  ;  when  she 
(lid,  she  was  met  as  belore,  receivinpf  a  second  and  more  deadly 
wound,  which  was  succeeded  with  less  furious  demonstrations  of 
ra«re  than  before.  A  third  ell()rt  was  made  to  drive  them  out, 
but  there  was  no  res[)()U.se  save  the  piteous  cryiu<;[  of  small  cubs. 
We  then  cut  a  small  hard-wood  tree,  trimmed  oil"  the  brandies, 
leaviiif^  one  jtron;^  about  six  inches  lonuf,  sli:ir[)ened  out,  formini^ 
a  hook.  I"inlar<riufr  the  aperture  below,  we  thrust  in  the  wooden 
hook,  which  <irap]i]cd  a  heavy  but  resisth'ss  carcass.  With  much 
exertion  we  drew  it  fortii  :  she  was  dead.  The  cubs,  ibur  in 
number — a  tliin^jf  unusual  by  one  half — we  took  alive,  and  carried 
them  to  the  camp,  kept  them  a  Mliile,  and  linally  iold  them. 
They  were  (piite  small  and  harmless,  of  a  most  beautiful  lus- 
trous black,  and  lat  as  porpoises.  The  old  dam  was  uncommonly 
lur«!:e  ;  Ave  juil<red  she  mijjht  weifxh  about  three  hundred  pounds. 
Her  hide,  when  stretched  out  and  nailed  on  to  the  end  of  the 
camp,  appeared  quite  et^ual  to  a  cow's  hide  in  dimensions." 

Here  in  our  wild  winter  quarters,  where  we  delight  to  dwell 
during  a  period  of  from  three  to  four  months,  we  find  much  to 
interest  and  amuse — much  to  do,  for  an  equal  amount  of  labor  is 
rarely  performed  witliin  the  same  time  under  any  other  circum- 
stances, and  I  may  add,  too,  with  less  fatigue  or  disrelish.  With 
incident,  romance,  story,  song,  and  adventure,  time  passes  rapidl) 
away. 


t      I 


lO'J 


Tin:  I'mr.-TUKF,,  nii 


UlIArTER   V. 

Till!  Skill  011(1  Kntorprlso  of  Lninhorineii. — Method  of  tiikiii;,'  Lo;,'s  down 
iiillH  mid  Mituiitiiiiis.  —  Dry  Sluice. — Stum  Aiirhor.  —  (Jiaiit  Mniiiit.iiu 
Stops. — Alpiiu!  Luml'oriiig. — \Vari)iiij^  ii  Team  down  Stee|i->. — Trial  of 
Skill  and  Slreiii,'tli. — The  I'ival  Load. — Daiificr  and  Inconvonieufo  of  Hills 
in  r..of,'i,'iiij;  Koads. — A  distcessinj,'  Accident. — Solemn  (^Jonchision  of  ii  Win- 
lor'.s  Work. — S(jino  of  the  Terils  attendant  upon  Iannl)erin|L,'. — A  fi-arfid 
Wound. — Narrow  Ivscape. — The  buried  Cap. — The  safest  ^Vay  of  Uetreat. 
— A  Sahhath  in  the  Loggiiii,'  Camp. — Sunday  Mctrning  Naps. — Domestiu 
Camp  Duties. — Letter  Writiuf^. — llecreations. — Suble  Traps. —  Deer  anil 
Moose. — Mear  ^!e;lt. — A  rare  Joke. — Moose  Hunt. — Bewilder(!d  Muuters. 
—  Extraordinary  l]ncounter. — Conclusion  of  Sahitath  in  the  Woods. 

LuMini:KMi:N  not  only  out  and  haul  Irorn  chimps  and  commu- 
nities, but  rocouuoitcr  the  forest,  hill,  vale,  and  mountain  .side 
for  scatterin;:^  trees  ;  and  when  they  are  deemed  wortlb  an  effort, 
no  location  in  which  they  may  he  found,  however  wild  or  daring-, 
can  opj)ose  the  skill  and  enterprise  of  our  men. 

For  taking  logs  down  mountain  sides,  we  adopt  various  meth- 
ods, according  to  the  circumstances.  Sometimes  we  construct 
what  are  termed  dry  sluice-ways,  which  reach  from  the  upper 
cilge  of  a  precipice  down  to  the  base  of  the  hill.  This  is  made 
by  laying  large  poles  or  trunks  of  straight  trees  together  the  whole 
distance,  which  is  so  constructed  as  to  keep  the  log  from  run- 
ning off  at  the  sides.  Logs  are  rolled  into  the  upper  end,  the 
descent  or  dip  often  being  very  steep  ;  the  log  passes  on  with 
lightning-like  velocity,  quite  burying  itself  in  the  snow  and 
leaves  below.  From  the  roughness  of  the  surfaces,  the  friction 
is  very  great,  causing  the  bark  and  smoke  to  fly  plentifully. 

At  other  times,  when  the  descent  is  more  gradual  and  not  too 


FOUEdT    LIFK. 


103 


,'  L<)f,'s  down 
lit  Moiirit.'iiu 
1^. — Trial  of 
iriici!  ul  llilld 
*iun  of  II  Win- 
g. — A  ft'iirfiil 
ly  of  Uftrnit. 
s. — Domestic 
. —  Di'or  iiiid 
vv.d  lliiuturs. 
iV%)0(ls. 

lul  c'oinmu- 
iintiiiii  side 
It,  ail  cjfort, 
lI  or  daring, 

rious  melli- 
e  const  met 

the  upper 
liis  is  rnado 
r  the  whole 

from  run- 
ner end,  the 
cs  on  with 

snow   and 
the  frictiou 
tifuUy. 
Liud  not  too 


8teep,  and  wlifii  ihcrc  is  not  a  sutlicient  (|iiaMtity  to  pay  the  ex- 
]»t'nst'  of  a  sliiic<'-\\  ay,  we  fell  a  hirge  tree,  HUuetiiiK'.s  tlie  Hfiu- 
lock,  trim  out  tlif  loji,  and  "ut  the  largest  linilis  oil"  a  loot,  more 
or  less,  iVuiii  tilt'  trunk.  Tiiis  is  attaelied  to  the  end  of  the  log 
by  f»trong  chains,  and  as  the  oxen  draw  the  load,  this  drag  thrnsts 
its  stinnpy  linihs  into  the  siiow  ami  Iro/ei'  earth,  and  tlins  pre- 
vents the  load  from  torcing  the  team  forward  too  rapidly.  Should 
tiio  chain  give  way  which  attaches  the  hold-hack  to  the  load, 
notliing  could  save;  the  team  I'rom  sudden  destruction. 

There  is  a  mountain  on  \)\c  "  west  hram-h"  of  the  IVuiohscot 
where  IMne-trees  of  excel'ent  (luality  staiul  lar  up  its  sides,  whose 
lops  appear  to  sweep  the  very  clouds.  The  side  which  furnisiics 
tiud)er  rises  in  terraces  of  gigantic  proj)ortions,  forming  a  succes- 
sion of  ahrupt  precipices  and  shelving  tahle-land.  Tliere  are 
three  of  these  giant  mountain  steps,  each  of  wliich  |)r()duces  liini- 
her  which  challenges  the  admiration  and  enterprise  of  the  log- 
men. The  ascent  to  these  Aljiine  groves  is  too  abrupt  to  allow 
the  team  to  ascend  in  harness ;  we  therefore  unyoke  and  drive  the 
oxen  up  winding  })athways.  The  yokes  and  drains  are  carried 
up  by  the  workmen,  and  also  the  bob-.sled  in  pieces,  after  taking 
it  aj)art.  Ascending  to  the  uppermost  terrace,  the  oxen  are  re- 
yoked  and  the  sled  adjusted.  The  logs  being  cut  and  ])repaied 
as  \isual,  are  loaded,  and  haided  to  the  c(V^o  of  the  lirst  preci})ice, 
miloaded,  and  rolled  off  to  the  table  of  the  second  terrace,  where 
they  are  again  loaded,  hauled,  and  tumbled  off  as  before,  to  the 
top  of  the  llrst  rise,  I'rom  which  they  are  again  pitched  down 
to  the  base  of  the  mountain,  where  for  the  last  time  they  are 
loaded,  and  hauled  to  the  landing. 

To  obtain  logs  in  such  romantic  locations  was  really  as  hazard- 
ous as  it  was  laborious,  varying  sufhciently  from  the  usual  rou- 
tine of  labor  to  invest  the  occasion  with  no  ordinary  interest.  It 
M'as,  indeed,  an  exhibition  well  calculated  to  awaken  thrilling 
emotions  to  witness  the  descent  of  those  massive  logs,  breaking 


■i 


^!^ 


I*  J 
»^  1 


104 


THE    PINE' TREE,   OR 


and  shivcrinj^  whatever  mifjht  obstruct  their  ^idtly  phnige  down 
the  steep  mountain  side,  making  the  valleys  reverberate  and  ring 
merrily  with  the  concussion. 

In  other  instances  loads  are  eased  down  hill  sides  by  the  use 
of  "tackel  and  fall/'  or  by  a  strong  "warp,"  taking  a  "bite" 
round  a  tree,  and  hitching  to  one  yoke  of  the  oxen.  In  this  man- 
ner the  load  is  "tailed  down"  steeps  where  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  the  "  tongue  oxen"  to  resist  the  pressure  of  the  load. 
Sometimes  the  warp  parts  under  the  test  to  which  it  .'S  thus  sub- 
jected, when  the  whole  load  plunges  onward  like  an  avalanche, 
subjecting  the  poor  oxen  to  a  shocking  death. 

But  the  circumstance  which  calls  forth  the  most  interest  and 
exertion  is  the  "  rival  load."  When  teams  are  located  with  suf- 
ficient proximity  to  admit  of  convenient  intercourse,  a  spirit  of 
rivalry  is  often  rife  between  the  dilierent  crews,  on  various  points. 
The  "  largest  tree,"  the  "  smartest  chopper,"  the  "  best  cook," 
the  "  greatest  day's  work,"  and  a  score  of  other  superlatives,  all 
mvestcd  wdth  attractions,  the  greater  from  the  isolated  circum- 
stances of  swamp  life. 

The  "  crack"  load  is  preceded  by  all  needful  preliminaries. 
All  defective  places  in  the  road  are  repaired.  New  "skids"  are 
nicely  pealed  by  hewing  off  the  bark  smoothly,  and  plentifully 
as  well  as  calculatingly  laid  along  the  road.  All  needful  repairs 
are  made  on  the  bob-sled,  and  the  team  put  in  contending  plight. 
The  trees  intended  for  the  "  big  load"  are  caref  lly  prepared,  and 
hauled  to  some  convenient  place  on  the  main  road  singly,  where 
they  are  reloaded,  putting  on  two  and  sometimes  three  large 
trees.  All  things  in  readiness,  the  men  follow  up  with  hand- 
spikes and  long  levers.  Then  comes  the  "  tug  of  war  ;"  rod  by 
rod,  or  foot  by  foot,  the  whole  is  moved  forward,  demanding  every 
ounce  of  strength,  both  of  men  and  oxen  united,  to  perform  the 
feat  of  getting  it  to  the  landing.  Were  life  and  fortune  at  stake, 
more  could  not  be  done  under  the  circumstances.     The  surveyor 


luiif^e  down 
lie  and  ring 


;  by  the  use 
g  a  "  bite" 
111  this  iiian- 
.d  be  iinpos- 
of  the  load. 
h  thus  sub- 
L  avalanche, 


interest  and 
ted  with  sui- 
!,  a  spirit  of 
trious  points. 
'  best  cook," 
erlatives,  all 
Lted  circuiii- 

reliminarics. 
'  "skids"  are 
[I  plenliiuUy 
ediul  repairs 
iding  plight, 
repared,  and 
lingly,  where 
three  large 
with  hand- 
car ;"  rod  by 
mding  every 
perform  the 
line  at  stake, 
?he  surveyor 


FOREST    LIFE. 


105 


applies  the  rule,  and  the  result  gives  either  the  one  or  the  other 
party  "  whereof  to  glory."  If  not  "  teetotalers,"  the  vanquished 
"  pay  the  bitters"  when  they  get  down  river.  Men  love  and 
wmII  have  excitement ;  with  spirits  never  more  buoyant,  every 
tiling,  however  trifling,  nlds  to  the  stock  of  "fun  alive"  in  the 
woods.  Every  crew  ha>  its  "  Jack,"  who,  in  the  absence  of  other 
material,  either  from  his  store  of  "  mother-wit"  or  "  greenness," 
coutributos  to  the  merry  shaking  of  sides,  or  allows  himself  to  be 
the  butt  of  good-natured  ridicule. 

But  while  the  greater  part  of  swamp  life  is  more  or  less  merry, 
there  arc  occasional  interni})tioiis  to  the  joyousness  that  abounds. 
Logijing  roads  arc  generally  laid  out  with  due  regard  to  the  con- 
veniences of  level  or  gently  descending  ground.  But  in  some 
instances  the  uneveniiess  of  the  country  admits  only  of  unfavor- 
able alternatives.  Sometimes  there  are  moderate  rises  to  ascend 
or  (Ux'cud  on  the  way  to  the  landing ;  the  former  are  hard,  the 
latter  dangerous  to  the  team.  I  knew  a  teamster  to  lose  his  life 
in  the  liillowing  shocking  manner  :  On  one  section  of  the  main 
road  there  was  quite  a  "  smart  pitch"  of  considerable  length,  on 
which  the  load  invariably  "  drove"  the  team  along  on  a  forced 
trot.  Down  this  slope  our  teamster  had  often  passed  without  sus- 
taining any  injury  to  himself  or  oxen.  One  day,  having,  as  usual, 
taken  his  load  I'rom  the  stump,  he  proceeded  toward  the  landing, 
soon  jtassing  out  of  sight  and  hearing.  Not  making  his  appear- 
ance at  the  expiration  of  the  usual  time,  it  was  su.^pected  that 
something  more  than  usual  had  detained  him.  Obeying  the  im- 
pulses of  a  proper  solicitude  on  his  behalf,  some  of  the  hands 
started  to  render  service  if  it  were  needed.  Coming  to  the  head 
of  the  hill  down  which  the  road  ran,  they  saw  the  team  at  tho 
foot  of  it,  standing  with  the  forward  oxen  faced  about  up  the 
road,  but  no  team^•ter.  On  reaching  the  spot,  a  most  distressing 
spectacle  presented  itself;  there  lay  the  teamster  on  the  hard 
road,  with  one  of  the  sled  runners  directly  across  his  bowels,  which, 


<  " 


i 


106 


THE    riNE-TREE,   OR 


h 


under  the  weight  of  several  tons  of  timber,  were  pressed  down 
to  the  thickness  of  a  man's  hand.  He  was  still  alive,  and  when 
they  called  out  to  him,  just  before  reaching-  the  sled,  he  spoke  up 
as  ])romptly  as  usual,  "  Here  am  I,"  as  if  nothing-  had  been  the 
matter.  These  were  the  only  and  last  words  he  ever  uttered.  A 
"pry"  was  immediately  set,  which  raised  the  dead-fall  from  his 
crushed  body,  enabling  them  to  extricate  it  from  its  dveadl'ul  po- 
sition. tShortly  after,  his  consciousness  left  him,  and  never  more 
returned.  He  could  give  no  explanation  ;  but  we  inferred,  from 
the  position  of  the  forward  oxen,  that  the  load  had  forced  the 
team  into  a  run,  by  which  the  tongue  cattle,  pressed  by  the  lead- 
ers, turning  them  round,  which  probably  threw  the  teamster  under 
the  rimner,  and  the  whole  load  stopped  when  about  to  poise  over 
his  body. 

He  was  taken  to  the  camp,  where  all  was  done  that  could  be, 
iiiuler  the  circumstances,  to  save  him,  but  to  no  purpose.  His 
work  was  fmislied.  He  still  lingered,  in  an  apparently  uncon- 
scious state,  until  midnight,  when  his  spirit,  forsaking  its  bruised 
and  crushed  tenement,  ascended  above  the  sighing  pines,  and  en- 
tered the  eternal  state.  The  only  words  he  uttered  were  those 
in  reply  to  the  calling  of  his  name.  As  near  as  we  could  judge, 
lie  had  laid  two  hours  in  the  position  in  which  he  was  found. 
It  was  astonishing  to  see  how  he  had  guaAved  the  rave*  of  the 
sled.  It  was  between  three  and  four  inches  through.  In  his  ag- 
ony, he  had  bitten  it  nearly  half  oil'.  To  do  this,  he  must  have 
pulled  himself  up  with  his  hands,  gnawed  a  while,  then  fallen 
back  again  through  exhaustion  and  in  despair.  He  was  taken 
out  to  the  nearest  settlement,  and  buried. 

At  a  later  period,  we  lost  our  teamster  by  an  accident  not  alto- 
gether dissimilar.  It  was  at  the  Avinding  up  of  our  winter's 
work  in  hauling..  Late  in  the  afternoon  we  had  felled  and  pre- 
pared our  final  tree,  which  Avas  to  finish  the  last  of  the  numer- 

*  ''  Have,"  tho  railing  of  the  sled. 


11 


FOREST    LIFE. 


107 


rcsscd  down 
B,  and  when 
he  spoke  up 
ad  been  tlie 
uttered.  A 
'all  from  his 
dreadful  po- 
ncver  more 
iferred,  from 
1  forced  the 
by  the  lead- 
imster  under 
to  poise  over 

lat  could  be, 
Lirpose.  His 
ently  uucon- 
fj  its  bruised 
lines,  and  eii- 
i  were  those 
could  judge, 
l;  was  found, 
rave"*  of  the 
.  In  his  ag- 
io must  have 
3,  then  fallen 
[e  was  taken 

lent  not  alto- 

our  winter's 

lied  and  pre- 

f  the  numer- 


ous loads  which  had  been  taken  to  the  well-stowed  landin^^'. 
Wearied  with  the  frequency  of  his  travels  on  the  same  road  for 
the  same  purpose,  this  last  load  was  anticipated  with  no  ordina- 
ry interest ;  and  when  the  tree  was  loaded,  he  seemed  to  con- 
template it  with  profound  satisfaction.  "  This,"  said  he,  "  is  my 
last  load."  For  the  last  time  the  team  was  placed  in  order,  to 
drag  from  its  bed  the  tree  of  a  hundred  summers.  Onward  it 
moved  at  the  signal  given,  and  he  was  soon  lost  to  view  in  the 
frequent  windings  of  the  forest  road.  It  was  nearly  sundown, 
and,  had  it  not  been  for  closing  up  the  winter's  work  that  day, 
the  hauling  would  have  been  deferred  until  next  morning. 

The  usual  preparations  for  our  evening  camp-fire  had  been 
made,  and  the  thick  shadows  of  evening  had  been  gathering  for 
an  hour,  and  yet  he  did  not  come.  Again  and  again  some  one 
of  the  crew  would  step  out  to  listen  if  he  could  catch  the  jin- 
gling of  the  chains  as  they  were  hauled  along^;  but  nothing  broke 
upon  the  ear  in  the  stillness  of  the  early  night.  Unwilling  longer 
to  resist  the  solicitude  entertained  for  his  safety,  several  of  us 
started  with  a  lantern  for  the  landing.  We  contir.ued  to  pass 
on,  every  moment  expecting  to  hear  or  meet  him,  until  the  land- 
ing was  finally  reached.  There,  quietly  chewing  the  cud,  the 
oxen  were  sfanding,  unconscious  of  the  cause  that  detained  them, 
or  that  for  the  last  time  they  had  heard  the  well-known  voice  of 
their  devoted  master.  Hastening  along,  we  found  the  load  prop- 
erly rolled  off  the  sled,  but  heavens  I  what  a  sight  greeted 
our  almost  unbelieving  vision  !  There  lay  the  poor  fellow  be- 
neath that  terrible  pressure.  A  log  was  resting  across  his  crushed 
body.  He  was  dead.  From  appearances,  we  judged  that,  after 
having  knocked  out  the  "  fid,"  which  united  the  chain  that  bound 
the  load,  the  log  rolled  suddenly  upon  him.  Thus,  without  a  mo- 
ment's warning,  he  ceased  in  the  same  L  itant  to  work  and  live. 
It  proved,  indeed,  his  "  last  load." 

To  contemplate  th^j  sameness  of  the  labor  in  passing  to  and  fro 


il ' 

1 

J 

) 

108 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR 


from  the  swamp  to  the  landing  several  times  a  day,  on  a  solitary 
wilderness-road,  for  a  term  of  several  months,  with  only  those 
resjntes  aii'orded  in  stormy  weather  and  on  Sundays,  one  might 
think  himselt'  capable  of  entering  into  the  feelings  of  a  teamster, 
and  sympathetically  share  with  him  the  pleasurable  emotions 
consequent  upon  the  conclusion  of  his  winter's  work.  While  it 
must  be  conceded  that,  of  things  possessing  every  element  capa- 
ble of  contributing  pleasure,  we  sometimes  weary  through  ex- 
cess, let  it  not  be  supposed  that  our  knight  of  the  goad  has  more 
than  usual  occasion  to  tire,  or  sigh  for  ^hc  conclusion  of  the  haul- 
ing season.  To  be  sure,  "  ta  and  fra"  the  livelong  winter,  now 
with  a  load  wending  along  a  serpentine  road,  as  it  winds  through 
the  forest,  he  repeats  his  visits  to  the  swamp,  and  then  the  land- 
ing ;  but  lie  is  relieved  by  the  companionship  of  his  dumb  but 
docile  oxen,  for  whom  he  contracts  an  afibction,  and  over  whom 
he  exercises  the  watchful  vigilance  of  a  faithful  guardian,  while 
he  exacts  their  utmost  service.  He  sees  that  each  performs  his 
duty  in  urging  forward  the  laboring  sled.  He  watches  every 
hoof,  the  clatter  of  shoes,  the  step  of  each  ox,  to  detect  any  lame- 
ness. He  observes  every  part  and  joint  of  the  bob-sled  while  it 
screeches  along  under  the  massive  log  bound  to  it.  He  exam- 
ines the  chains,  lest  they  should  part,  and,  above  all,  the  objects 
more  watched  than  any  others,  the  "  lid-hook"  and  the  "  dog- 
hook,"  the  former  that  it  does  not  work  out,  the  latter  that  it 
loose  not  its  grappling  hold  upon  the  tree.  Sometimes  his  little 
journeys  are  spiced  with  the  infniite  trouble  which  a  long,  sweep- 
ing stick  will  give  him,  by  suddenly  twirling  and  oversetting  the 
gled  every  time  it  poises  over  some  abrupt  swell  in  the  road. 
There  is  really  too  much  to  be  looked  after,  thought  of,  and  cared 
for  in  his  passage  to  the  landing  to  allow  much  listlessness  or 
burdensome  leisure.  As  well  might  a  pilot  indulge  irresponsi- 
ble dormancy  in  taking  a  fine  ship  into  port,  as  for  a  teamster 
to  be  listless  under  his  circumstances.    No ;  the  fact  is,  that,  with 


* 


1 


)n  a  solitary 
I  only  those 
I,  one  might 
a  teamster, 
le  emotions 
:.     While  it 
Dmcnt  capa- 
through  ex- 
ad  has  more 
of  the  hai'J- 
wiiiter,  now 
nds  through 
en  the  land- 
is  dumb  hut 
over  whom 
,rdian,  while 
peribrms  his 
itches  every 
t  any  lame- 
led  while  it 
He  exam- 
,  the  objects 
i  the  "dog- 
itter  that  it 
nes  his  little 
long,  sweep- 
jrsetting  the 
n  the  road. 
)f,  and  cared 
stlessness  or 
e  irresponsi- 
r  a  teamster 
is,  that,  with 


FOREST    LIFE. 


109 


the  excitement  attendant  upon  each  load  as  it  moves  to  the  land- 
ing, ten  times  the  number  of  tobacco  quids  are  required  than 
would  abundantly  suffice  him  on  his  return. 

Tiien  look  at  the  relaxation  and  comfort  of  the  return.  The 
jingling  chains,  as  they  trail  along  on  the  hard-beaten  way,  dis- 
course a  constant  chorus.  With  his  goad-stick  under  his  arm 
or  as  a  stalf,  he  leisurely  walks  along,  musing  as  he  goes,  emit- 
ting from  his  mouth  the  curling  smoke  of  his  unfailing  pipe,  like 
,a  walking  chimney  or  a  locomotive  ;  anon  whistling,  humming, 
or  pouring  forth  with  full-toned  voice  some  favorite  air  or  merry- 
making ditty.  He  varies  the  whole  exercise  by  constant  address- 
es to  the  oxen,  individually  and  collectively :  "  Haw,  Bright !" 
"  Ge,  Duke  !"  "  Whoap  !  whoap  I"  "  What  ye  'bout  there,  you 
lazy — "  "  H'  I  come  there,  I'll  tan  your  old  hides  for  you  !" 
"  Pchip,  pschip,  go  along  there  !"  Knowing  him  not  half  in 
earnest,  unless  it  happens  to  be  a  sharp  day,  the  oxen  keep  on 
the  even  tenor  of  their  way,  enjoying  the  only  a])parent  comfort 
an  ox  can  enjoy  while  away  from  his  crib — chowing  the  cud. 

Recently,  however,  the  wolves  liave  volunteered  thoir  services, 
by  accompanying  the  teams,  in  some  places,  on  their  way  to  and 
from  the  landing,  contributing  iniinitely  more  to  the  fears  than 
conscious  security  of  the  teamsters. 

Three  teams,  in  the  winter  of  1614,  all  in  the  same  neighbor- 
hood, were  beset  with  these  ravenous  animals.  They  were  of 
unusually  large  size,  manifesting  a  most  singular  boldness,  and 
even  familiarity,  without  the  usual  appearance  of  ferocity  so  char- 
acteristic of  the  animal. 

Sometimes  one,  and  in  another  instance  three,  in  a  most  un- 
welcome manner,  volunteered  their  attendance,  accompanying 
the  teamster  a  long  distance  on  his  way.  They  would  even 
jump  on  the  log  and  ride,  and  approach  very  nea  the  oxen. 
One  of  them  actually  jumped  upon  the  sled,  and  down  between 
the  bars,  while  the  sled  was  in  motion 


•  lirii'Ti-niMirwiJi 


f 


il 


110 


TIIK    PINE-TREE,    OR 


■^ 


'  I'. 

lit 


■il 
I 


^omc  of  tho  teamsters  were  much  alarmed,  keeping  close  to 
the  oxen,  and  driviuj^  on  as  last  as  possible.  Others,  more  cour- 
ageous, would  run  toward  and  strike  at  them  with  their  goad- 
sticks  ;  but  the  wolves  sprang  out  ot"the  way  in  an  instant.  But, 
although  they  seemed  to  act  without  a  motive,  there  was  some- 
thing so  cool  and  impudent  in  their  conduct  that  it  was  trying 
to  the  nerves — even  more  so  than  an  active  encounter.  For 
some  time  after  this,  fire-arms  were  a  constant  part  of  the  team- 
ster's equipage.  No  further  molestation,  however,  was  had  from 
them  that  season. 

One  of  my  neighbors  related,  in  substance,  the  following  inci- 
dents :  "  A  short  time  since,"  said  he,  "  while  passing  along  the 
shores  of  the  Ivlattawamkeag  River  in  the  winter,  my  attention 
was  suddenly  attracted  by  a  distant  howling  and  screaming — a 
noise  which  might  remind  one  of  the  screeching  of  forty  pair  of 
old  cart-wheels  (to  use  the  figure  of  an  old  hunter  in  describing 
the  distant  howling  of  a  pack  of  wolves).  Presently  there  came 
dashing  from  the  forest  upon  the  ice,  a  short  distance  from  me, 
a  timid  deer,  closely  pursued  by  a  hungry  pack  of  infuriated 
wolves.  I  stood  and  observed  them.  The  order  of  pursuit  was 
in  single  file,  until  they  came  quite  near  their  prey,  when  they 
suddenly  branched  ofi"  to  the  right  and  left,  forming  two  lines  ; 
the  foremost  gradually  closed  in  upon  the  poor  deer,  until  he  was 
completely  surrounded,  when,  springing  ujjon  their  victim,  they 
instantly  bore  him  to  the  ice,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  space 
of  time  devoured  him,  leaving  the  bones  only  ;  after  which  they 
galloped  into  the  forest  and  disappeared."  On  the  same  river  a 
pack  of  these  proAvling  marauders  were  seen  just  at  night,  trail- 
ing along  down  river  on  the  ice.  A  family  living  in  a  log  house 
near  by  happened  to  have  some  poison,  with  which  they  satu- 
rated some  bits  of  "leat,  and  then  threw  them  out  upon  the  ice. 
Next  morning  early  the  meat  was  missing,  and,  on  making  a 
short  search  in  the  vicinity,  six  wolves  were  found  "  dead  as 


r0UE9T    LIFH. 


Ill 


ig  close  to 
more  cour- 
tlieir  goad- 
ant.  13ut, 
was  some- 
was  trying 
inter.  For 
1'  the  team- 
is  had  from 

Dwhig  inci- 
y  along  the 
,y  attention 


eaming- 


-a 


orty  pair  of 
1  deseribing 
there  came 
;e  from  me, 
[■  infuriated 
pursuit  was 
when  they 
<;  two  lines  ; 
mtil  he  was 
nctim,  they 
short  space 
which  they 
ame  river  a 
night,  trail- 
a  log  house 
1  they  satu- 
pon  the  ice. 
n  making  a 
d  "dead  as 


hammers,"  all  within  sight  of  each  otlier.  Every  one  of  them 
had  dug  a  hole  down  through  the  snow  into  tiie  fro/en  earth,  in 
which  tliey  had  tlirust  their  noses,  either  for  water  to  quench 
the  burning  tliir.st  ])roduced  by  the  poison,  or  to  suuiisome  anti- 
dote to  the  i'atal  (h'ug.  A  bounty  was  obtained,  on  eacii,  of"  ten 
dolhus,  besides  their  hides,  making  a  lair  job  of  it,  as  well  as 
riihliug  the  neighborhood  of  an  annoying  enemy.  The  following 
account  of  a  wolf-chase  will  interest  the  reader  : 

"  ])uriii<r  tlie  winter  of  iJ^ll,  being  eu'Mged  in  the  northern 
part  of  Maine,  I  had  nuich  leisure  to  devote  to  the  wild  sports 
of  a  new  country.  To  none  of  these  was  1  more  passionately 
addicted  than  that  of  skating.  The  deep  and  secpiestered  lakes 
of  this  northern  state,  frozen  by  intense  cold,  present  a  wide  iield 
to  the  lovers  of  this  pastime.  Often  would  I  bind  on  my  rusty 
skates,  and  glide  away  up  the  glittering  river,  and  wind  each 
mazy  streandet  that  flowed  on  toward  the  parent  ocean,  and  feel 
my  very  pulse  bound  with  joyous  exercise.  It  was  during  one 
of  these  excur.sions  that  I  met  with  an  adventure  which,  even 
at  this  period  of  my  life,  I  remember  with  wonder  and  astonish- 
ment. 

"  1  had  left  mv  friend's  house  one  evening,  just  before  dusk, 
with  the  intention  of  skating  a  short  distance  u})  the  noble  Ken- 
neheck,  which  glided  directly  before  the  door.  The  evening  was 
fine  and  clear.  The  new  moon  peered  from  her  lofty  seat,  and 
cast  lier  rays  on  the  frosty  pines  that  skirted  the  shore,  until  they 
seemed  the  realization  of  a  fairy  scene.  All  Nature  lay  in  a  rpiiet 
which  she  sometimes  chooses  to  assume,  while  water,  earth,  and 
air  seemed  to  have  sunken  into  repose. 

"  I  had  gone  up  the  river  nearly  two  miles,  when,  coming  to 
a  little  stream  Avhich  emptied  into  the  larger,  I  turned  in  to  ex- 
plore its  course.  Fir  and  hendock  of  a  century's  growth  met 
overhead,  and  formed  an  evergreen  archway,  radiant  with  frost- 
work.    All  was  dark  within ;  but  I  was  young  and  fearless,  and 


112 


THE    PINE-TREE,  OR 


If 

Jiif 

■  {'" 

lit  i' ' 

|j  1- 

' 

as  I  peered  into  the  unbroken  forest,  that  reared  itself  to  the  bor- 
ders of  the  stream,  I  laughed  in  very  joyousness.  My  wild  liur- 
ra  rang  throu;L,''h  the  woods,  and  I  stood  listening  to  the  echo 
that  rev^erberated  again  and  again,  until  all  was  hushed.  Occa- 
sionally a  night-bird  would  flap  its  wings  from  some  tall  oak. 

"  The  mighty  lords  of  the  forest  stood  as  if  naught  but  time 
could  bow  them.  I  thought  how  oft  the  Indian  hunter  concealed 
himself  behirul  these  very  trees — how  oft  the  arrow  had  pierced 
the  deer  by  this  very  stream,  and  how  oft  his  wild  halloo  had 
rung  for  his  victory.  I  watched  the  owls  as  they  fluttered  by, 
until  I  almost  fancied  myself  one  of  them,  and  held  my  breath 
to  listen  to  their  distant  hooting. 

"  All  of  a  sudden  a  sound  arose,  it  seemed  from  the  very  ice  be- 
neath my  feet.  It  was  loud  and  tremendous  at  first,  until  it  end- 
ed in  one  long  yell.  I  was  appalled.  Never  before  had  such  a 
noise  met  my  ears.  I  thought  it  more  than  mortal — so  fierce, 
and  amid  such  an  unbroken  solitude,  that  it  seemed  a  fiend  from 
hell  had  blown  a  blast  from  an  infernal  trumpet.  Presently  I 
heard  the  twigs  on  the  shore  snap  as  if  from  the  tread  of  some 
animal,  and  the  blood  rushed  back  to  my  forehead  with  a  bound 
that  made  my  skin  burn,  and  I  felt  relieved  that  I  had  to  con- 
tend with  things  of  earthly  and  not  spiritual  mold,  as  I  first  fan- 
cied. My  energies  returned,  and  I  looked  around  me  for  some 
means  of  defense.  The  moon  shone  through  the  opening  by 
which  I  had  entered  the  forest,  and  considering  this  the  best 
means  of  escape,  I  darted  toward  it  like  an  arrow.  It  was 
hardly  a  hundred  yards  distant,  and  the  swallow  could  scarcely 
excel  my  desperate  flight ;  yet,  as  I  turned  my  eyes  to  the  shore, 
I  could  see  two  dark  objects  dashing  through  the  underbrush  at 
a  pace  nearly  double  that  of  my  own.  By  their  great  speed, 
and  the  short  yells  which  they  occasionally  gave,  I  knew  at  once 
that  they  were  the  much-dreaded  gray  wolf. 

*'  I  had  never  met  with  these  animals,  but,  from  the  descrip- 


I 

i 

J* 

Hi 


1 


rORKST    LIFE. 


113 


o  the  bor- 
wild  hur- 

thc  echo 
(1.     Occa- 
all  oak. 
;  but  time 
•  concealed 
ad  pierced 
halloo  had 
Littered  by, 

my  breath 

very  ice  be- 
iiitil  it  end- 
had  such  a 
I — so  fierce, 
fiend  from 
Presently  1 
jad  of  some 
ith  a  bound 
had  to  con- 
s  I  first  fan- 
ne  for  some 
opening  by 
his  the  best 
w.     It  was 
)uld  scarcely 
to  the  shore, 
.derbrush  at 
great  speed, 
new  at  once 

the  descrip- 


tion given  of  them,  I  had  but  little  pleasure  in  making  their 

aequaiiitaiiee.      Tiieir  untamable    fierceness,    and    the    untiring 

strength  which  seems  to  be  a  part  of  their  nature,  render  them 

objects  of  dread  to  every  benighted  traveler. 

"  '  With  tlieir  lon^  gallop,  which  cfiii  tiro 
Tho  hound's  deep  hate,  the  huiiter'a  fire,' 

they  pursue  their  prey,  and  naught  but  death  can  separate  them. 
The  bushes  that  skirted  the  shore  flew  past  with  the  velocity  of 
light  as  1  dashed  on  in  my  flight.  The  outlet  was  nearly  gained  ; 
one  second  more,  and  I  would  be  comparatively  safe,  when  my 
pursuers  appeared  on  the  bank  directly  above  me,  which  rose  to 
the  height  of  some  ten  feet.  There  was  no  time  for  thought ;  I 
bent  my  head  and  dashed  wildly  forward.  The  wolves  sprang, 
but,  miscalculating  my  speed,  sprang  behind,  while  their  intend- 
ed prey  glided  out  into  the  river. 

"  Nature  turned  me  toward  home.  The  lii^ht  flakes  of  snow 
spun  from  the  iron  of  my  skates,  and  I  was  now  some  uis mce 
from  my  pursuers,  when  their  fierce  howl  told  me  I'jut  i  was 
again  the  fugitive.  T  did  not  look  back  ;  I  did  not  feel  sorry  or 
glad  ;  one  thought  of  home,  of  the  bright  faces  awaiting  my  re- 
turn, of  tlieir  tears  if  they  should  never  again  see  me,  and  then 


r 

iilH     li 

114 


THE    riNK-TREK,   OR 


every  euernry  of  niiml  ami  body  was  exertt'd  Ibr  my  escapo.  I 
wa.s  perrcetly  at  hoiiiu  on  the  ice.  Many  wero  the  days  I  .spent 
on  my  skates,  never  tliin'  u^^  that  at  one  time  tliey  would  be  my 
only  means  of  safety.  E  '  hall'  minute  an  alternate  yelp  IVoui 
my  pursuers  made  mc  but  too  certain  they  wero  close  at  my 
heels.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  came  ;  I  heard  their  feet  patter- 
ing on  the  ice  nearer  still,  until  1  fancied  I  could  hear  their 
deep  breathinj^.  Every  nerve  and  musclo  in  my  frame  was 
stretched  to  the  utmost  tension. 

"  The  trees  alonpf  the  shore  seemed  to  dance  in  the  uncertain 
li^'ht,  and  my  brain  turned  with  my  own  breathless  speed  ;  yet 
still  they  seemed  to  hiss  forth  with  a  sound  truly  horrible,  when 
an  involuntary  motion  on  my  part  turned  mc  out  of  my  course. 
The  wolves  close  behind,  unable  to  stop  and  as  unable  to  turn, 
slipped,  fell,  still  going  on  I'ar  ahead,  their  tongues  lolling  out, 
their  white  tushes  gleaming  from  their  bloody  mouths,  their  dark, 
shaggy  breasts  freckled  with  foam  ;  and  as  they  passed  mc  their 
eyes  glared,  and  they  howled  with  rage  and  fury.  The  thought 
Hashed  on  my  mind  that  by  this  means  I  could  avoid  them,  viz.,  by 
turning  aside  whenever  they  came  too  near  ;  for  they,  by  the  for- 
mation of  their  feet,  are  unable  to  run  on  ice  except  on  a  right  line. 

*'  I  immediately  acted  on  this  jjlan.  The  wolves,  having  re- 
gained their  feet,  sprang  directly  toward  me.  The  race  was  re- 
newed for  twenty  yards  up  the  stream ;  they  were  already  close 
on  my  back,  when  I  glided  round  and  dashed  past  my  pursuers. 
A  fierce  growl  greeted  my  evolution,  and  the  wolves  slipped  upon 
their  haunches  and  sailed  onward,  presenting  a  perfect  picture 
of  helplessness  and  baffled  rage.  Thus  I  gained  nearly  a  hundred 
yards  each  turning.  This  was  repeated  two  or  three  times,  every 
moment  the  wolves  getting  more  excited  and  baffled,  until,  com- 
ing opposite  the  house,  a  couple  of  stag-hounds,  aroused  by  the 
noise,  bayed  furiously  from  their  kemiels.  The  wolves,  taking 
the  hint,  stopped  in  their  mad  career,  and  after  a  moment's  con- 


i 


FOREST    Ml'K. 


115 


escapo.  1 
lys  I  .spiMit 
Duld  be  my 
3  yulit  iVoui 
lose  at  my 
feet  i)atter- 
hear  their 
frame  was 

c  uncertain 

speed  ;  yet 

rrible,  when 

my  course. 
,ljle  to  turn, 

lolling  out, 
i,  their  dark, 
%ed  mc  their 
rhe  thought 
iiem,  viz.,by 
y,  by  the  for- 

a  right  line. 
s,  having  re- 
race  was  re- 
ilready  close 
my  pursuers. 

slipped  upon 
rfect  picture 
L-ly  a  hundred 
2  times,  every 
d,  until,  com- 
•oused  by  the 
solves,  taking 
moment's  con- 


yideralion  turned  and  (led.  I  watelied  tliem  till  tlieir  dusky  forms 
(lis;i|»|)eared  over  a  neighboring  hill  ;  then,  taking  oil"  my  skate-s, 
1  woMilcd  my  wiiy  to  the  house,  with  feelings  better  to  be  imag- 
ined than  do.seribed." 

Such  annoyances  from  tliese  migrating  beasts,  in  the  vicinity 
of  logging  Inrllis  as  above  named,  are  of  recent  date.  Up  to 
lb  ID  1  had  been  iimcli  in  the  wild  forests  of  the  northeastern 
jiart  of  Maine,  clearing  wild  land  during  the  summer  and  lug- 
ging in  the  M'inter,  and  up  to  this  time  had  never  seen  a  sat- 
isfactory evidence  of  lluur  jiresenee.  Jhit  since  this  period  they 
have  often  been  seen,  and  in  such  numbers  and  of  such  size  as 
to  render  them  ohjeels  of  dread. 

Every  de])artment  of  labor  among  the  loggers,  and  in  i'liri,  to 
extend  the  observation,  every  department  of  life,  is  characterized 
more  or  less  by  adventure  and  peril.  Our  men  get  badly  cut 
sometimes,  and  then,  in  the  absence  of  a  surgeon,  are  put  upon 
their  o\\  n  resources  to  stanch  blood  and  dress  wounds. 

1  recollect  an  instance  in  which  a  man  in  one  of  the  neighbor- 
ing cre\vs.  \vhile  at  work,  received  the  whole  bit  of  an  ax  into 
the  nuiscular  i)ortion  of  his  thigh,  by  an  accidental  blow  from 
an  associate.  It  was  indeed  a  gaping  wound.  A  wound  of  such 
an  alarming  character,  in  the  absence  of  suitable  medical  aid,  is 
deemed  a  serious  matter,  and  not  without  Just  cause.  In  this 
instance  use  was  made  of  handkerchiefs  to  .swathe  up  the  wound, 
so  as  to  stanch  the  flowing  blood,  while  they  bore  him  to  the 
camp  upon  a  litter.  He  was  laid  upon  the  deacon  seat,  and  the 
wound  was  sewed  up  by  one  of  the  crew  with  a  common  sewing- 
needle.  It  did  well,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  he  was 
able  to  resume  his  labors. 

Life  is  constantly  endangered  in  felling  the  Pine-trees.  The 
tops  of  other  trees  seldom  o[)pose  any  barrier  to  tlie  gichly  plunge 
of  the  towering  Pine,  breaking,  splitting,  and  crushing  all  com- 
ing within  its  range.     Tiie  broken  limbs  which  are  torn  from  its 


) 


no 


Tlin    PINH-TRKK,   OR 


i 


<  MP  * 


m  1" 


own  trunk,  mid  tlio  wri'ikcht'd  braiiclies  of  other  trees,  rendered 
brittle  by  the  iiitenHe  IVoMtM,  lly  in  every  direetion,  like  the  Bcat- 
tered  IVaf^nients  of  an  exj)lodinjjf  ship,  always  more  or  less  en- 
dan^^!rin«(  life.  Often  those  wrenched  limbs  arc  susjjcnded  di- 
rectly over  the  place  where  our  work  requires  our  jjresence,  and 
on  the  sli«rhtest  motion,  or  I'rom  a  sudden  pust  of  wind,  they  slip 
down  wilh  the  stealthiness  of  a  hawk  and  the  velocity  of  an  ar- 
row. I  feel  an  involuntary  shudder,  as  if  now  in  the  presence  of 
daiifrer,  while  I  remember  some  of  the  narrow  escapes  I  have 
had  from  death  hy  the  faliinpr  of  snch  missiles.  1  recollect  ono 
in  particular,  which  was  wrenched  from  a  larfre  Pine-tree  I  had 
just  felled.  It  lodjifed  in  the  top  of  a  towerin<JC  Birch,  directly 
over  where  it  was  necessary  for  mo  to  stand  while  scverinn^  the 
top  from  the  trunk.  Viewini?  its  i)osition  with  some  anxiety,  I 
ventured  to  stand  and  "work  under  it,  forf^ettinj^  in  the  excitement 
my  danjj^er.  While  thus  engapfed,  the  limb  stealthily  slipped 
i'rom  its  position,  and,  failing  directly  before  me  end  foremost, 
penetrated  the  frozen  earth.  It  was  about  four  inches  through, 
and  ten  feet  long.  It  just  grazed  my  cap  ;  a  little  variation,  and 
it  would  have  dashed  my  head  in  pieces.  But  my  time  had  not 
come.  Attracted,  on  one  occasion,  while  swamj)ing  a  road,  by 
the  appearance  of  a  large  limb  which  stuck  fast  in  the  ground, 
curiosity  induced  me  to  extricate  it,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  how 
far  it  had  penetrated.  After  considerable  exertion,  I  succeeded 
in  drawing  it  out,  when  I  was  perfectly  amazed  to  find  a  thick 
cloth  cap  on  the  end  of  it.  It  had  penetrated  the  earth  to  a  con- 
siderable depth.  Subsequently  I  learned  that  it  belonged  to  a 
man  who  was  killed  instantly  by  its  fall,  striking  him  on  the 
head,  and  carrying  his  cap  into  the  ground  with  it. 

It  is  never  safe  to  run  from  a  falling  tres  in  a  line  directly  op- 
posite from  the  course  in  which  it  falls,  as  it  sometimes  strikes 
other  trees  in  such  a  way  as  to  throw  the  butt  from  the  stump. 
I  have  sometimes  seen  them  shoot  back  in  this  way  with  the 


t.  I 


FORKi^T    T.FFE. 


117 


IS,  roinlori'<l 
to  Iho  Bcat- 
or  less  eii- 
*|)cmleil  (U- 
eseiico,  and 
id,  they  plip 
ty  of  an  ar- 
pvescncc  of 
ipcs  1  have 
■ccollect  Olio 
c-treo  1  had 
rch,  dirt'ctly 
scvevinpf  tlio 
10  auxieiy,  I 
c  excitement 
Lhily  slipped 
nd  foremost, 
lies  tliroup^li, 
ariation,  and 
time  had  not 
rr  a  road,  by 

I  the  jTi'ou^i^^' 
if  seeing  how 
,  I  succeeded 
)  find  a  thick 
arth  to  a  con- 
jelonged  to  a 
i;  him  on  the 

le  directly  op- 
otimes  strikes 
m  the  stump, 
way  with  the 


velocity  «)f  li^'-litiiiii^'-  half  ibfir  Icii^rtli.  Ruiniiiig  iVoin  a  falling 
live  ill  llic  way  uIxim;  alliulcd  to,  I  kiU'W  a  man  killi.'il  in  an  iii- 
flaiil.  Allot licr  ri'asoii  wiiich  should  induce  clioppcrs  or  Kpccta- 
torw  to  avoid  lliis  nianiier  of  retreat  is,  that  the  broken  limbs  I'ro- 
queutly  rehound,  and  are  thrown  hack  in  a  direction  opposite  that 
in  which  the  tn'c  falls.  It  reminds  one  of  a  rooted  enemy  hurl- 
ing their  missiles,  as  they  retreat,  bjick  upon  the  pursuing  loe.  I 
have  sometimes  seen  tiie  air  in  the  region  of  the  tree-tops  liter- 
ally <iarkeue(l  with  the  (lying  fragments,  small  and  great,  torn 
fniiii  trees  in  the  thundering  passage  of  one  of  those  massive  col- 
mniis  to  the  ground.  Sometimes  they  come  down  like  a  shower 
of  arrows,  as  if  from  the  departed  spirits  of  aerial  warriors.  To 
retreat  salely,  one  should  run  in  a  direct  ion  so  as  to  make  nearly 
a  right  angle  with  the  Jailing  tree.  A  man  hy  the  name  of  liale, 
a  master  eho])per,  cut  a  Pine  which,  in  its  passage  down,  struck 
in  the  crutch  of  another  tree  and  broke  the  trunk  of  the  falling 
one.  the  to[)  of  which  pitched  back  and  instantly  killed  him. 

If  lumhermen  do  not  lovo  the  return  of  the  seventh  day  for  its 
moral  purposes,  they  welcome  it  for  the  rest  it  brings,  and  the  op- 
portunity it  afllu'ds  for  various  little  matters  of  personal  comfort 
which  demand  attention.  On  visiting  our  winter-quarters,  one 
of  the  first  things  which  might  arrest  attention,  indicating  a  tSab- 
bath  in  the  logging-swamp,  would  be  a  long  morning  nap.  Dis- 
missing care,  they  court  the  gentle  spell,  until,  wearied  with  the 
lengthened  night,  they  rise,  not,  as  on  other  mornings,  when  their 
hurrying  feet  brush  the  early  frosts  as  they  pass  to  their  work, 
while  the  lingering  night  casts  back  its  wasting  shadows  upon 
their  path.  On  the  Sabbath  morning  they  recline  upon  their 
boughy  couches  until  the  sun  has  traveled  a  long  way  upon  his 
daily  circuit. 

Every  one  feels  free  to  sleep,  to  lounge,  or  to  do  whatever  he 
may  choose,  with  a  moderate  abatement  in  behalf  of  the  team- 
ster and  cook,  whose  duties  require  some  seasonable  attention 


> 


.^ 


118 


THE    riNE-TUKK,   OR 


■1'.  i 


Ii;-'! 


on  all  morniiifrs.  Breakfast  over,  each  individual  disjiopcs  of 
hirnsidlas  best  accords  Avilli  iiiclinalioii  or  iulcrest.  There  arc  a 
few  f^eneral  duties  \vlii(!li  eonio  round  every  Sabbath,  which  some, 
by  turns,  feel  the  responsibility  of  performinp".  For  instance, 
every  Sabbath  it  is  customary  to  replenish  the  bed  with  a  fresh 
coat  ol' bouufhs  irom  the  nei<rhborin«r  everjifreens.  Of  the  health- 
ful and  invifjoratinj''  inliueuce  of  this  practice  there  is  no  doubt. 
Then  follow  the  various  little  duties  of  a  personal  character. 
Our  red  llannel  shirts  are  to  be  washed  and  mended,  ])ants  to  be 
patched,  mittens  ami  socks  to  be  repaired,  boots  to  be  tapped  and 
greased,  &c.  Our  clumsy  finf:(ers,  especially  if  unused  to  the 
needle,  make  moe!  ^.udicrous  and  unwoman-like  business  of  patch- 
ing up  our  torn  garments.  Letter-writing  receives  attention  on 
this  day,  if  at  all,  with  no  other  than  the  deacon  seat,  perhaps, 
ior  a  writing-desk,  a  sheet  of  soiled  paper,  ink  dried  and  thick, 
or  pale  from  freezing,  and  a  pen  made  with  a  jack-knife  ;  letters 
are  dedicated  to  a  wife,  it  may  be,  or  to  a  mother  by  some  dutiful 
son,  or  to  his  lady-love  by  some  young  swamper.  There  arc  some 
recreations  to  relieve  the  monotony  of  a  Sabbath  in  the  wilder- 
ness. Sometimes  a  short  excursion  in  searcb  of  spruce  gum  ;  for 
many  a  young  urchin  at  home  has  had  the  promise  of  a  good 
supply  of  this  article,  to  be  furnished  on  the  return  of  the  camp- 
ers. Others  go  in  pursuit  of  timber  for  ax-helves.  As  neither  the 
White  Oak  nor  Walnut  grow  in  the  latitude  of  Pine  forests  in  the 
eastern  section  of  Maine,  the  White  Ash,  Rock  Maple,  Beech  and 
Elm,  and  sometimes  the  Hornbeam,  are  in  general  use.  Others 
spend,  it  may  be,  a  portion  of  the  day  in  short  timber-hunting 
excursions.  Where  the  contiguity  of  encampments  allow  it,  visits 
are  exchanged  among  the  denizens  of  the  camps. 

Formerly,  when  sable  were  more  plenty,  some  one  or  more  pro- 
prietors of  a  line  of  sable-traps  would  take  the  ojiportunity  on  the 
Sabbath  to  visit  them,  as  time  from  the  weekly  employment  could 
not  be  spared  for  this  purpose.     Such  traps  are  very  simple  in 


■»*■ 


'1 


FOREST    LTFR. 


119 


dispones  oi 
riuM-o  are  a 
vliich  sonii-N 
)r  instance, 
A^ilh  a  fresh 
"the  health- 
is  no  douht. 
1  character. 
,  pants  to  be 
i  tapped  and 
uised  to  the 
Less  of  i)atch- 
attention  on 
eat,  perhaps, 
3d  and  thick, 
.uiife  ;  letters 
'  some  dutiful 
lere  are  sonio 
n  the  wilder- 
uce  f^uin  ;  for 
ise  of  a  good 
of  the  camp- 
us neither  the 
forests  in  the 
>le.  Beech  and 
use.     Others 
inbcr-hunting 
allow  it,  visits 

10  or  more  pro- 
n-tunity  on  the 
iloyinent  could 
/cry  simple  in 


their  construct  ion.  Home  tliin,  flat  pieces  of  wood,  cleft  from 
iho  Sjirncp  or  Fir-tree,  are  driven  into  tlie  irround,  lorniin<r  the 
outline  of  a  small  circle  some  nine  inches  in  diameter,  and  ahout 
tlie  same  in  liei<rht,  with  an  opening:  of  three  or  four  inches  ou 
one  side,  over  which  is  placed  the  trunk  of  a  small  tree  some 
three  incdu'S  throu<rh,  runnin«i!:  cross-wise,  and  raised  at  one  end 
ahout  tour  inches,  supported  by  a  standard  sjjindle,  to  which  a 
small  ])iece  of  meat  is  fastened  for  bait.  The  top  of  the  whole 
is  covered  with  lifrlit  tir  or  spruce  bouirhs,  to  prevent  the  sable 
from  takiuf?  the  bait  from  the  top.  Access  to  the  bait  is  tiien 
had  only  hy  passinj^  the  lu^ul  am?  slioulders  into  the  little  door 
or  openin<r  under  the  pole,  when  the  slijjhtest  nihldinf^  at  the 
s])iudle  will  brin^  down  the  dead-fall  and  entrap  them.  These 
traps  occur  every  lew  rods,  and  thus  a  line  or  circuit  is  formed 
for  several  miles. 

AVild  cats  sometimes  take  the  business  of  tendinp:  these  sable 
traps,  in  whi(di  case  they  tear  them  to  })ieces  and  devour  the 
bait.  One  such  animal  will  occasionally  break  up  an  entire  line, 
and  blast  the  hopes  of  the  hunter  till  captured  himself. 

Althouf^li,  when  circumstances  favor  it,  some  portion  of  Satur- 
day is  devoted  to  liaulinn;  up  camp  M'ood,  yet  the  practice  of  de- 
votiufjf  a  few  hours  of  the  concludiufr  part  of  the  Sabbath  is  not 
unlVecpient.  Upon  the  whole,  we  conchule  that,  notwithstaniling 
the  necessity  of  rest  and  recreation,  and  the  necessary  attentions 
to  i)ersonal  conveniences  which  the  seventh  day  affords,  the  season 
usmilly  wears  away  rather  heavily  than  otherwise,  and  Monday 
morning,  with  its  cheerful  employments,  brings  not  an  unwelcome 
change.  The  pleasures  of  a  forest  life  are,  with  lumbermen, 
found  ratlier  in  the  labor  performed  than  the  recreations  enjoyed. 
Suspension  from  labor,  without  the  pleasant  relief  which  home 
privileges  afford,  leaves  a  vacancy  of  feeling  not  altogether  i\\  9 
from  otitni.  The  little  domestic  duties  claiming  attention — mi- 
pleasant,  us  indeed  they  arc  unnatural  to  the  coarser  sex — remind 


120 


THE   PINE-TREE,    OR 


them  strongly  of  the  absence  of  woman,  without  wliosc  amiable 
presence,  society,  and  services  man  can  not  enjoy  his  quota  of 
earthly  bliss. 

A  tramp  after  deer  and  moose  is  sometimes  taken.     We  often 
disturb  them  in  penetrating  the  deep  forests  for  timber.     In  such 
cases  they  always  remove  to  some  more  sequestered  place,  and  post 
themselves  for  winter-quarters  again,  where  we  sometimes  follow 
and  take  them  when  the  condition  of  the  snow  renders  their  flight 
tardy  and  dilFicult.     In  the  summer  they  roam  at  large  through 
the  forests  and  on  the  meadows,  where  they  may  often  be  seen 
feeding  as  we  pass  up  the  rivers  ;  but  in  winter  they  confine 
themselves  to  much  smaller  limits,  where  they  remain  during 
the  greater  portion  of  the  season.     The  flesh  of  the  deer  forms 
an  agreeable  change  from  our  salt  provisions.     Venison  is  often 
quite  plenty.     From  the  hare  and  partridge  our  cook  serves  a  de- 
licious pot-pie.     The  flesh  of  the  moose  and  bear  are  very  good. 
Were  it  not  for  the  unprepossessing  appearance  of  the  latter,  his 
flesh  would  be  esteemed  before  most  wild  meat.     The  flesh  of  a 
young  black  bear  a  year  old,  if  fat,  is  not  easily  distinguished, 
when  cooked,  from  a  good  pork  spare  rib.     I  recollect  a  ludic- 
rous instance  of  imposition  practiced  upon  an  individual  by  fur- 
nishing him  with  bear  meat  for  his  dinner,  while  he  supposed 
that  he  was  feasting  upon  fresh  pork.     He  was  known  to  be  ex- 
ceedingly averse  to  eating  bear  meat,  and  often  expressed  his  dis- 
relish, and  even  disgust,  at  the  idea.     "  Eat  bear's  meat?     No  I  I 
would  as  soon  eat  a  dog."     A  bear  had  been  taken  by  a  crew 
near  by  ;  it  was  fine  meat,  and  it  so  happened  that  our  anti-bep-r 
eater  was  at  their  camp  one  day,  when  the  cook  served  up  in 
his  best  manner  some  of  the  flesh.     Of  course  he  was  invited  to 
dine,  as  lumbermen  are  always  hospitable.     On  this  occasion  the 
invitation  was  especially  urgent,  as  they  "  had  a  nice  bit  of  fresh 
pork,  which  had  been  sent  them  by  the  provision-team." 

Our  friend  ate  and  praised  the  nice  pork  alternately.     "  Fine, 


u 


FOREST    LIFE. 


121 


^liosc  amiable 
his  quota  oi 

;n.     "We  often 
ber.     In  such 
place,  and  post 
netimcs  follow 
Lers  their  flight 
large  through 
r  often  be  seen 
jr  they  confine 
remain  during 
the  deer  forms 
/"cnison  is  often 
ook  serves  a  de- 
■  are  very  good. 
)f  the  latter,  his 

The  flesh  of  a 
y  distinguished, 
Dcollect  a  ludic- 
dividual  by  fur- 
ile  he  supposed 
mown  to  be  ex- 
(Xpressed  his  dis- 
smeat?    No!  I 
;aken  by  a  crew 
Latour  anti-bef-T- 
)ok  served  up  in 
te  was  invited  to 
this  occasion  the 

nice  bit  of  fresh 
n-team." 
rnately.     "Fine, 


very  ;  liadu't  had  any  fresh  pork  before  for  nearly  a  year.  It 
wa.s  lender — it  was  sweet  and  good."  With  much  efibrt,  the  risi- 
bility of  the  jokers  was  kept  in  subjection  through  the  meal. 
Many  senseless  thhigs  were  said,  and  every  thing  seemed  to  elicit 
laughter. 

Dinner  over.  "  Well,  captain,  how  have  you  enjoyed  your  din- 
ner ?"  "  First  rate."  "  Do  you  know  that  you  have  been  eat- 
ing })ear's  meat?"  "No  I"  said  he  ;  "that  warn't  bear's  meat, 
was  it  ?"  "  Yes."  He  seemed  incredulous  ;  bu',  the  evidences 
were  at  liand  ;  tlie  quarter  from  which  the  dinner  had  been  taken 
was  produced.  Poor  fellow  !  ho  looked  as  though  he  had  swal- 
lowed a  lizard  ;  and,  to  "  finish  him  up,"  the  long-nailed  shaggy 
paw  was  })roduced.  He  could  stand  it  no  longer  ;  but,  rushing- 
out  of  the  camp,  and  throAvlng  himself  down  upon  his  hands  and 
knees,  he  retched  as  thou<^h  he  had  taken  a  dozen  doses  of  ip- 
ecacuanha, wliile  all  the  rest  of  the  crew  were  convulsed  with 
lauirliter  at  the  poor  fellow's  distress. 

The  moose  is  the  largest  species  of  deer  found  in  the  New  En- 
gland Ibrest.  Their  size  varies  from  that  of  a  large  pony  to  the 
l'ull-<.nown  horse.  They  have  large  branching  antlers,  which 
grow  and  arc  shed  every  season. 

The  taking  of  moose  is  sometimes  quite  hazardous.  The  most 
favorable  time  for  hunting  them  is  toward  spring,  when  the  snow 
is  deep,  and  when  the  warmth  of  mid-day  melts  the  surface,  and 
the  cold  nights  freeze  a  crust,  which  greatly  embarrasses  the  moose 
and  deer  in  their  fliglit. 

"  One  pleasant  morning,  six  of  us  started  with  the  intention  of 
taking  deer ;  we  had  a  gun  and  a  large  dog.  Fatigued,  at  length, 
with  several  hours'  travel,  and  meeting  with  no  success,  we  con- 
cluded to  give  it  up,  and  returned  to  camp  late  in  the  afternoon. 
Having  been  very  intent  in  our  search  for  game,  we  had  "iken 
little  notice  of  the  various  courses  which  we  had  traveled,  ami, 
when  the  purpose  was  formed  of  returning,  we  found,  much  to 

F 


122 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR 


In  ; 


1/ 


i:.    ' 


t 


1    'i 


'I 


i<. 


P 


our  discomfort,  that  we  were  altogether  in  doubt  as  to  the  direc- 
tion proper  to  be  pursued.  However,  wc  were  not  without  our 
opinions  on  the  subject,  though,  unlbrtunatcly,  tliese  opinions  dil- 
fercd.  We  finally  separated  into  two  parties,  four  supposing  that 
the  camp  lay  in  a  particular  direction,  while  two  of  us  enter- 
tained nearly  opposite  views.  The  gun  was  retained  by  the  four, 
while  the  dog  followed  myself  and  comrade.  We  had  not  sep- 
arated more  than  five  minutes,  when  the  dog  started  two  fine 
moose.  The  other  party,  being  within  hail,  soon  joined  us  in  the 
pursuit. 

"  As  the  snow  was  deep,  and  crusted  sufficiently  hard  to  bear 
us  upon  snow-shoes,  while  the  moose  broke  through  at  every 
leap,  we  were  soon  sufficiently  near  them  to  allow  a  good  shot. 
One  of  the  men  approached  within  a  few  yards  of  the  hinder- 
most,  and  fired.  The  ball  took  ellcct,  but  did  not  stop  him.  Still 
pursuing,  another  ball  was  lodged  in  his  body,  when  he  turned 
at  bay.  It  was  now  our  turn  to  retreat  ;  but,  after  making  a  few 
bounds  toward  us,  ho  turned  and  fled  again,  when  we  again  came 
up  to  the  charge.  I  took  the  gun  this  time,  and  approached 
within  fifteen  feet  of  him,  and  fired.  He  dropped  instantly  upon 
the  snow.  Supposing  him  dead,  we  left  the  spot  and  pursued 
the  other  with  all  possible  dispatch,  for  there  was  not  a  moment 
to  lose,  as  the  fugitive,  alarmed  by  the  report  of  the  gun,  Avas 
redoubling  his  exertions  to  eflbct  his  escape.  The  dog,  however, 
soon  came  upon  him  and  retarded  his  flight.  Emboldened  in 
his  successful  encounter  with  the  other,  Rover  dashed  incau- 
tiously upon  him,  but  nearly  paid  the  forfeit  of  his  life.  The 
moose  gave  him  a  tremendous  blow  with  one  o^  his  sharp  hoofs. 
which  made  him  cry  out  till  the  woods  echoed  with  his  piteous 
howl.  In  vain  did  we  try  to  induce  him  to  renew  the  encoun- 
ter. His  passion  for  the  chase  seemed  elfectually  coded ;  so  wc 
were  obliged  to  abandon  the  pursuit,  and  the  more  readily,  as  the 
day  was  now  rjuitc  spent.     We  returned  to  dress  the  one  we  had 


'I 

■v4f 


FOREST    LIFE. 


123 


s  to  the  dircc- 
t  without  our 
i  opinions  dii- 
iupposiug  that 
)  of  us  enter- 
ed by  the  four, 
3  had  not  sep- 
arted  two  fine 
oiued  us  in  the 

ly  hard  to  bear 
rough  at  every 
)W  a  good  shot. 
1  of  the  hinder- 
stop  him.     Still 
when  he  turned 
er  making  a  few 
we  again  came 
and  approached 
[1  instantly  upon 
lot  and  pursued 
IS  not  a  moment 
of  the  gun,  was 
he  dog,  however, 
Emboldened  in 
X  dashed   incau- 
^f  his  life.     The 
■  his  sharp  hoofs. 
with  his  piteous 
new  the  cncoun- 
ly  coded  ;  so  we 
■e  readily,  as  the 
:S  the  one  we  had 


slioj,  bill  were  a^tonifihed,  on  arriving  at  the  plncc  wliere  we  left 
him,  to  find  lliat  lie,  too,  had  made  his  ef^eape.  Tracking  liim 
by  a  trail  of  blood  which  appeared  to  spirt  out  at  every  leap  he 
made,  we  soon  came  u})  with  him,  and  iired  again.  The  ball 
hit,  !)ut  only  to  enrage  him  the  more.  Five  additional  bullets 
were  lodged  in  his  jjcrforated  body,  now  making  in  all  nine. 
Having  Init  one  shot  more,  we  desired  to  make  it  count  ellect- 
ively  ;  so,  taking  the  gun,  I  approatdied  very  near  upon  one  side, 
and  fired  at  his  head.  The  ball  passed  directly  into  one  eye  and 
out  at  the  otlu  i,  thus  rendering  him  completely  blind.  The  last 
shot  caused  him  to  jump  and  plunge  tremendously.  He  now  be- 
came furious,  and,  guided  by  the  sound  of  our  footsteps,  would 
dart  at  us  like  a  catamount  whenever  we  approached  him.  Wc 
had  no  ax  to  strike  him  down,  or  to  cut  clubs  with  which  to  dis- 
patch him.  "VYe  Avere  at  a  stand  what  to  do.  We  tried  first  'o 
entangle  him  in  the  deep  snow  by  approaching  him,  and  thus  m- 
duee  him  to  spring  out  of  the  beaten  into  the  untrodden  snow  ;  but 
the  moment  he  found  himself  out,  he  v/ould  back  directly  into 
the  beaten  path  again. 

"  Our  feelings  became  veiy  uncomfortable,  and  now,  from  jiity, 
we  desired  to  put  an  end  to  his  sufierings.  To  see  his  noble  strug- 
gle for  life,  with  nine  bullets  in  him,  and  blind,  inspired  a  pain- 
ful regard  toward  him.  \Yhat  to  do  we  knew  not.  It  was  really 
unsafe  to  approach  him  so  as  to  cut  his  throat.  We  could  neither 
entangle  him  in  the  snow,  nor  bring  him  down  with  the  small 
Etieks  we  had  cut  with  our  jack-knives.  At  length  we  hit  upon 
the  following  expedient :  obtaining  a  long  stiff  pole,  one  end  of 
it  was  gently  placed  against  his  side.  We  found  he  leaned 
against  it,  and  the  harder  we  pushed  the  more  he  opjjosed. 
Uniting  our  strength,  we  pressed  it  as  powerfully  as  we  were 
capable  ;  he  resisted  with  ecpial  strength.  While  thus  pn^ssing, 
we  suddenly  gave  way,  when  he  fell  flat  upon  his  side.  Before 
he  had  time  to  recover,  wc  sprang  upon  him,  and  with  a  knifo 


124 


THE    riNE-TREE,    OR 


%. 


1.  i 


|lf! 


severed  the  jiijunilar  vein,  when  he  yiekled  to  his  fate.  It  was 
nearly  two  hours  Iroin  the  coiiinienceraeut  ot"  our  hist  encounter 
before  we  di.s|)atche(l  liim.  Leaving  him  for  the  night,  we  re- 
turned to  camp,  quite  overcome  with  hunger  and  fatigue. 

"  jS^ext  morning  we  went  out  to  bring  in  our  prize.  We  found 
the  other  moose  aliectionately  standing  over  the  dead  carcass  of 
her  shiughtered  companion.  Manifesting  much  reluctance  to  ilee, 
she  permitted  our  approach  sufficiently  near  to  afford  a  good  shot, 
which  we  were  not  unwilling  to  improve  ;  so,  raising  the  fatal 
instrument  to  my  cheek,  1  let  go.  JShe  fell  on  the  spot,  and  was 
soon  dressed  with  the  other.  We  took  the  carcasses  into  camp, 
and,  after  reserving  what  we  wished  for  our  own  use,  sent  tlic 
remainder  down  river  to  our  friends."*- 

The  "bull  moose"  is  a  formidable  foe  when  he  "gets  his  dan- 
der up,"  and  specially  so  at  particular  seasons  of  the  year  ;  then, 
unprovoked,  they  will  make  war  on  man,  betraying  none  of  that 
shrinking  timidity  so  characteristic  of  the  cervine  gemis.  A 
hunter,  who  used  to  put  up  occasionally  over  night  at  our  camp, 
entertained  us  with  the  following  singular  adventure.  "Once," 
said  he,  "  while  out  on  a  hunting  excursion,  I  was  pursued  by  a 
'ball  moose,'  duri?ig  that  period  Mdien  their  jealousy  was  in  full 
operation  in  behalf  of  the  female.  He  approached  me  with  his 
muscular  neck  curved,  and  head  to  the  ground,  in  a  manner  not 
dissimilar  to  the  attitude  assumed  by  horned  cattle  when  about 
to  encounter  each  other.  Just  as  he  was  about  to  make  a  pass 
at  me,  I  sprang  suddenly  between  his  wide-spreading  antlers,  be- 
stride his  neck.  Dexterously  turning  round,  I  seized  him  by  the 
horns,  and,  locking  my  feet  together  under  his  neck,  I  clung  to 
him  like  a  sloth.  With  a  mixture  of  rage  and  terror,  he  dashed 
waldly  about,  endeavoring  to  dislodge  me  ;  but,  as  my  life  de- 
pended upon  maintaining  my  position,  I  clung  to  him  with  a  cor- 
responding desperation.     After  making  a  few  ineffectual  attempts 

*  The  ud ventures  of  a  mess-mate. 


FOREST    LIFE. 


125 


late.     It  was 
last  cucouuter 
night,  we  rc- 
fatigue. 
:c.     We  found 
uail  carcass  ot 
uctaucc  to  lice, 
rd  a  good  sliot, 
using  the  fatal 
i  spot,  and  was 
sscs  into  camp, 
n  use,  scut  the 

i  "gets  his  dan- 
the  year ;  then, 
ing  none  of  that 
ruie  genus,.     A 
;ht  at  our  camp, 
iture.     "Once," 
as  pursued  by  a 
:)usy  was  in  full 
icd  me  with  his 
in  a  manner  not 
Lttle  when  about 

to  make  a  pass 
iding  antlers,  be- 
cizcd  him  by  the 

neck,  I  cbnig  to 
terror,  he  dashed 
t,  as  my  life  do- 
[)  liim  with  a  cor- 
iliectual  attempts 


to  (lisoiigaire  me,  he  threw  out  his  nose,  and,  laying  his  antlers 
hack  n])oii  his  shoulders,  which  lornied  a  sereen  lor  my  (U-fense, 
lie  spr-.ng  ii)r\vard  into  a  furious  run,  sti.'l  bearing  me  upon  his 
neck.  Now  penetrating  dense  thickets,  then  leaping  high  "  wind- 
falls,"^ and  struggling  through  swam[)-mires,  he  Jinally  fell 
through  exhaustion,  after  carrying  me  about  three  miles.  Im- 
proving the  op])ortunity,  I  drew  my  hunter's  knife  from  its  sheath, 
and  instantly  buried  it  in  his  neck,  cutting  the  jugular  vein, 
wlii(rh  ])ut  a  sjieedy  termination  to  the  contest  and  the  llight." 

The  habits  of  the  moose,  iu  his  manner  of  defense  and  attack, 
are  similar  to  those  of  the  stag,  and  may  be  illustrated  by  the  fol- 
loM'ing  anecdote  from  the  "Random  t?ketches  of  a  Kentuckiau." 

"  Who  ever  saw  I3ravo  without  loving  him  ?  His  sloe-black 
eyes,  his  glossy  skin,  tlecked  here  and  there  with  blue  ;  his  wide- 
siiread  thighs,  clean  shoulders,  broad  back,  and  low-drooj)ing 
chest,  bespoke  him  the  true  stag-hound  ;  and  none  who  ever  saw 
his  bounding  form,  or  heard  his  deep-toned  bay,  as  the  swift-foot- 
ed stag  Hew  before  hiui,  M-ould  (lis])utc  his  title.  List,  gentle 
reader,  and  I  will  tell  you  an  adventure  which  will  make  you  love 
him  all  the  more. 

"  A  bright  frosty  morning  iu  November,  18r)S,  tempted  me  to 
visit  the  forest  hunting-grouuds.  On  this  occasion  I  was  followed 
l»y  a  tine-looking  hound,  which  had  been  presented  to  me  a  lew 
days  before  by  a  fellow-sportsman.  I  was  anxious  to  test  his 
(puilities,  and,  knowing  that  a  mean  dog  will  not  often  hunt  Avell 
with  a  good  one,  I  had  tied  up  the  eager  Bravo,  and  was  attend- 
ed by  the  strange  dog  alone.  A  brisk  canter  of  half  an  hour 
brought  me  to  the  wild  forest  hills.  Slackening  the  rein,  I  slow- 
ly wound  my  way  up  a  brushy  slope  some  three  hundred  yards 
in  length.  I  had  ascended  about  half  way,  Avheu  the  hourul  be- 
gan to  exhibit  signs  of  uneasiness,  and  at  the  same  instant  a  stag 
sprang  out  from  some  underbrush  near  by,  and  rushed  like  a  whirl- 

*  Old  fallen  trees. 


ItoHi 


126 


THE   riNK-TRER,    OR 


II 1 

U  ' 

If'  I '   '' 

III  1  ' ' 

r 

1 

r 

1 

ii 

R 

"wind  U])  the  slope.  A  word,  and  Iho  hound  was  croiu'liiiij^-  at. 
my  feet,  and  my  trained  Cherokee,  with  ear  erect  and  llashinj^ 
eye,  watched  the  coiirsc  of  the  all'rif^dited  animal. 

"  On  the  very  summit  ol'  the  ridf^e,  lull  one  hundred  and  liity 
yards,  every  limb  standinf^  out  in  bold  relief  aj^ainst  the  clear 
blue  sky,  the  stag  paused,  and  looked  proudly  down  upon  us 
After  a  moment  of  indecision,  I  raised  my  rille.  and  sent  the  whiz- 
zing- lead  upon  its  errand.  A  single  bound,  and  the  antlered 
monarch  was  hidden  from  my  view.  Hastily  running  down  a 
ball,  1  ascended  the  slope  ;  my  blood  ran  a  little  fuf-ter  as  I  saw 
the  '  gouts  of  blood'  which  stained  tiie  withered  leaves  wlieie  he 
had  stood.  One  moment  more,  and  the  excited  hound  was  leap- 
ing breast  high  on  his  trail,  and  the  gallant  Cherokee  bore  his 
rider  like  lightning  after  them. 

"Away — away  I  for  hours  we  did  thus  hasten  on,  without 
once  being  at  i'uult  or  checking  our  headlong  speed.  The  chase 
had  led  us  miles  from  the  starting-})oint,  and  now  ap])eared  to  be 
bearing  up  a  creek,  on  one  side  of  which  arose  a  precipitous  hill, 
Bome  two  miles  in  length,  which  I  knew  tlie  wounded  animal 
would  never  ascend. 

"  Half  a  mile  further  on,  another  hill  reared  its  bleak  and  bar- 
ren head  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  rivulet.  Once  fairly  in  the 
gorge,  there  was  no  exit  save  at  the  iij)])er  end  of  the  ravine. 
Here,  then,  I  must  intercept  my  game,  which  1  was  able  to  do 
by  taking  a  nearer  cut  over  the  ridge,  that  saved  at  least  a  mile. 

"  Giving  one  parting  shout  to  cheer  my  dog,  Cherokee  bore  uio 
headlong  to  the  pass.  I  had  scarcely  arrived,  when,  black  with 
sweat,  the  stag  came  laboring  up  the  gorge,  seemingly  totally 
reckless  of  our  presence.  Again  I  poured  iorth  the  '  leaden  mes- 
senger of  death,'  as  meteor-like  he  Hashed  by  us.  One  bound, 
and  the  noble  animal  lay  prostrate  withhi  fifty  feet  of  where  I 
stood.  Leaphig  from  my  horse,  and  placing  one  knee  u])on  his 
shoulder,  and  a  hand  upon  his  antlers,  I  drew  my  hunting-knife ; 


III'! 


FOREST    LIFE. 


127 


croiu.'liiiij;  iit. 
L  unci  ilasliiiig 

Jrod  and  lil'ty 
iust  the  clear 
own  upon  us 
sent  the  wliiz- 
[  the   untlered 
nniiig  <Ui\vn  a 
"aritcr  ari  L  saw 
.•aves  where  he 
ound  was  h'up- 
jrukee  Lore  iiis 

?n  on,  without 
•d.     Tlie  chase 

ap]>eared  to  he 
precipitous  hill, 

ouuded  animal 

5  hleak  and  har- 
Lce  fairly  in  the 
[  of"  the  ravine, 
was  ahle  to  do 

at  least  a  mile, 
lerokee  hore  uie 
hen,  black  with 
)emingly  totally 
he  '  leaden  mcs- 
is.      One  hound, 

feet  of  where  I 
13  knee  Tipon  his 
y  hunting-knife ; 


but  scarcely  had  its  keen  point  touched  his  neck,  when,  with  a 
sudden  bound,  he  threw  ine  from  his  body,  and  my  knife  was 
luu-!cd  from  my  hand.  In  hunters'  parlance,  1  had  only  '  creased 
liim.'  1  at  once  saw  my  daiif>'er,  but  it  was  too  late.  With  one 
bound  he  was  upon  me,  woiuidinf?  and  almost  disablin«j^  me  with 
liis  sharp  feet  and  horns.  I  seized  him  by  his  wide-spread  ant- 
lers, and  .sourrht  to  rerrain  possession  of  my  knife,  but  in  vain  ; 
each  new  stru^^irie  drew  us  further  from  it.  tJherokee,  frifjrht- 
encd  at  llie  unusual  scene,  had  madly  lied  to  the  top  of  the  rid«re, 
where  he  stood  lookinj^  down  upon  the  combat,  trembling  and 
cpiiverinp-  in  every  limb. 

"  Tiie  ridire  road  I  had  taken  placed  us  far  in  advance  of  the 
Imuiul,  whose  bay  I  could  not  now  hear.  The  stru,<r,i,4es  of  tho 
furious  animal  had  become  dreadful,  and  eveiy  moment  I  could 
i'oel  his  sharp  hoofs  cuttin*^  deep  into  my  flesh  ;  my  n^rasp  upon, 
his  antlers  was  prowin^  less  and  less  firm,  and  yet  I  relincpiished 
not  my  hold.  Tlie  strutrfrle  had  brought  us  near  a  deep  ditch, 
washed  by  the  fall  rains,  and  into  this  I  endeavored  Lo  force  my 
adversarj^  but  my  strenpfth  was  unequal  to  the  effort ;  when  wo 
a})proached  to  the  very  brink,  ho  leaped  over  the  drain.  I  rc- 
hnquished  my  hold  and  rolled  in,  hoping-  thus  to  escape  him; 
but  he  returned  to  the  attack,  and,  throwing  himself  upon  me, 
inflicted  numerous  severe  cuts  upon  my  face  and  breast  before  I 
could  again  seize  liim.  Locking  my  arms  around  his  antlers,  I 
drew  his  head  close  to  my  breast,  and  was  thus,  by  great  efibrt, 
enabled  to  prevent  his  doing  me  any  serious  injury.  But  I  felt 
that  this  could  not  last  long  ;  every  muscle  and  fiber  of  my  frame 
was  called  into  action,  and  human  nature  could  not  long  bear  up 
under  such  exertion.  Faltering  a  silent  prayer  to  Heaven,  I  pre- 
pared to  meet  my  fate. 

"  At  this  moment  of  despair  I  heard  the  faint  hayings  of  the 
hound  ;  the  stag,  too,  heard  the  sound,  and,  springing  from  the 
ditch,  drew  me  with  him.     His  cfibrts  were  now  redoubled,  and 


128 


THE    PINE-TRKE,   OK 


fdf 


i>    m 


11    /: 


>     II 'I 


II 

jih'  !li 

I  could  scarcely  cling  to  him.  Yet  that  blessed  sound  came  near 
cr  and  nearer  !  Oh  how  wildly  beat  my  heart  as  1  saw  the  hound 
emerge  from  the  ravine,  and  spring  forward  with  a  short,  quick 
bark,  as  his  eye  rested  on  his  game  I  I  released  my  hold  of  the 
stag,  who  turned  upon  the  new  enemy.  Exhausted,  and  unable 
to  rise,  I  still  cheered  the  dog  that,  dastard  like,  fled  before  the 
infuriated  animal,  who,  seemingly  despising  such  an  enemy,  again 
threw  himself  upon  me.  Again  did  1  succeed  in  throwing  my 
arms  around  his  antlers,  but  not  until  he  had  inflicted  several 
deep  and  dangerous  wounds  tipon  my  head  and  face,  cutting  to 
the  very  bone. 

"  Blinded  by  the  flowing  blood,  exhausted  and  despairing,  I 
cursed  the  coward  dog,  who  stood  near,  baying  furiously,  yet  re- 
fusing to  seize  his  game.  Oh  I  how  1  prayed  for  Bravo  I  The 
thoughts  of  death  were  bitter.  To  die  thus  in  the  wild  forest, 
alone,  with  none  to  help !  Thoughts  of  home  and  friends  coursed 
like  lightning  through  my  brain.  At  that  moment,  when  Hope 
herself  had  fled,  deep  and  clear  over  the  neighboring  hill  came 
the  baying  of  my  gallant  Bravo  I  I  should  have  known  his  voice 
among  a  thousand.  I  pealed  forth,  in  one  faint  shout, '  On,  Bravo, 
on  !'  The  next  moment,  with  tiger-like  bounds,  the  noble  dog 
came  leaping  down  the  declivity,  scattering  the  dried  antumnal 
leaves  like  a  whirlwind  in  his  path.  *  No  pause  he  knew,'  but, 
fixing  his  fangs  in  the  stag's  throat,  he  at  once  commenced  the 
struggle. 

"  I  fell  back,  completely  exhausted.  Blinded  with  blood,  I 
only  knew  that  a  terrific  struggle  was  going  on.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments all  was  still,  and  I  felt  the  warm  breath  of  my  faithful 
dog  as  he  licked  my  wounds.  Clearing  my  eyes  from  gore,  I 
saw  ray  late  adversary  dead  at  my  feet,  and  Bravo,  '  my  own 
Bravo,'  as  the  heroine  of  a  modern  novel  would  say,  standing 
over  me.  He  yet  bore  around  his  neck  a  fragment  of  the  rope 
with  which  I  had  tied  him.     He  had  gnawed  it  in  two,  and,  fol- 


% 


FoiiRHT  r.rFR. 


1-^9 


ml  came  near 
^aw  llic  liouiid 
a  short,  quick 
ay  hold  of  the 
3d,  and  unable 
(led  he  tore  the 
1  enemy,  again 
.  throwing  my 
illicted  several 
face,  cutting  to 

d  despairing,  I 
iriously,  yet  re- 
i-  Bravo  1  The 
the  wild  forest, 

friends  coursed 
put,  when  Hope 
oring  hill  came 
known  his  voice 
out, '  On,  Bravo, 
the  noble  dog 

dried  antumnal 
he  knew,'  but, 

commenced  the 

d  with  blood,  I 
In  a  few  mo- 

1  of  my  faithful 
OS  from  gore,  I 
ravo,  '  my  own 

|ld  say,  standing 
.ent  of  the  rope 
in  two,  and,  fol- 


lowing liis  master  through  all  his  windings,  arrived  in  time  to 
rescue  him  from  a  horrible  death. 

"  I  iiave  recovered  from  my  wounds.  Bravo  is  lying  at  my 
feet.  Who  does  not  love  Bravo?  I  am  sure  f  do,  and  the  rascal 
knows  it — don't  you,  Bravo  ?     Comt  here,  sir  1 ' 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Camp  Life.  —  Winter  Eveiiiug.s. — An  Evojiing  in  Camp.  —  Chnractora. — 
Ciinl-i)iii}  ing. — A  Song. — Collision  with  wild  1  Jousts. — Tlu;  unknown  An- 
iniiil  ill  u  Diloniuui. — "Indian  Devil." — Tlio  Aborigiiios'  Torror. — A  shock- 
ing Eiicoiintor — Tlio  Discovory  and  I'lirsuil. — Tlitj  Bear  as  an  Antagonist 
— Their  thieving  rropcnsitios. — A  thrilling  Scouo  in  the  Night. — A  des- 
l)t!ratc  I'ncoiinter  with  three  Bears. 

Tin:  M'inter  evenings  of  camp  life  arc  too  much  abridged  iu 
length  to  allow  a  long  season  either  for  repose  or  amusement,  iu 
consequence  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour  in  which  the  men  leave 
work,  and  the  various  matters  which  regularly  claim  attention. 
By  the  time  supper  is  over  and  the  nightly  camp-fire  built,  sleep 
early  invites  the  laborer  to  the  enjoyment  of  its  soothing  influ- 
ences. And  oh  I  how  sweet  is  that  repose  !  The  incumbents  of 
downy  beds,  nestled  within  the  folds  of  gorgeous  drapery,  might 
earnestly  but  vainly  court  it. 

Could  you  take  a  peep  into  our  snug  camp  some  evening,  you 
might  see  one  of  our  number,  seated  perhaps  on  a  stool  in  the 
corner,  with  a  huge  jack-knife  in  his  hand,  up  to  his  knees  in 
whittlings,  while  he  is  endeavoring  to  give  shape  and  proportions 
to  the  slick  he  is  cutting  to  supply  the  place  of  a  broken  ax-h au- 
dio. The  teamster  might  be  seen  driving  a  heated  "  staple," 
with  jingling  ring,  into  a  new  yoke,  which  is  to  supply  the  place 
of  one  "  Old  Turk"  split  while  attempang,  with  his  male  and 

F  2 


130 


THE    I'lNC-TllEE,   OR 


I 


M-^ 


asr^ociaU'S,  to  reinovo  an  iiiuiieuso  jiiuc  loj(  fVoin  il«j  bod  diiriMg 
the  <l;iy;  fuul  us  ho  strikes  tliu  heated  iron  into  the  perlorated 
timher,  tlie  ciirhnji^  Kinulce,  in  two  little  spiral  columns,  rise?*  ^grad- 
ually and  j^'raceiuUy,  H))reading  as  they  ascend,  until  his  head  is 
cnveloi»ed  iii  a  dense  cloud. 

There  sits  another  I'eUovv  starlnp^  into  vacuity,  wliile  hetweeii 
his  lips,  profusely  covered  with  a  heavy  beard,  the  ^aowth  of  a 
quarter  oi'  a  year,  sticks  a  8tu))-stenimed  pipe.  Openiii^^  and 
fjliuttinj,'  those  anij)le  lips,  volumes  of  smoke  roll  out,  like  dis- 
charges from  the  side  of  a  moss-grown  battery,  the  very  banc 
ideal  of  all  that  is  exquisite  in  "  tobaccoing."  Jjestride  the  dea- 
con seat,  a  little  removed,  sits  the  cook,  with  a  large  pan  be- 
tween his  knees,  with  shirt-sleeves  furled,  and  in  the  dough  to 
his  elbows,  kneading  a  bat(di  of  bread  to  bake  for  breakfast.  The 
sweat  rolls  from  his  half-covered  forehead,  and,  unable  to  relievo 
his  hands,  he  ap])lies  now  one  elbow,  then  the  other,  to  dry  up 
the  mizzle  from  his  moistened  brow.  Yonder,  a^  the  further  end 
of  the  camp,  in  close  proximity  to  the  fire,  sits  \  lean,  lank  little 
man,  "with  thin  lips,  am}»le  i(  rehead,  and  eyes  m^  larger  than  a  rillo 
bulle^  piercing  as  the  sun,  poring  over  the  ilingy  pages  of  an  old 
Aveekly,  perhaps  for  the  tenth  time.  ISongs,  euvds,  or  stories  ])()S- 
scss  but  little  attraction  for  him.  Intellectually  inclined,  but  mis- 
erably provided  for,  still  the  old  newspaper  is  a  more  congenial 
companion  for  him. 

Behind  tlic  deacon  seat,  lounging  upon  the  boughy  bed,  you 
may  sec  half  a  dozen  sturdy  iellows — the  bone  and  sinew  of  the 
crew — telling  "  yarns,"  or  giving  expression  to  the  buoyancy  of 
their  feelings  in  a  song,  while  the  whole  interior  of  the  camp  is 
lighted  with  a  blazing  hard-wood  lire,  which  casts  upward  its 
rays  through  the  capacious  smoke-hole,  gilding  the  overhanging 
branches  of  the  neighboring  trees.  All  within  indicates  health, 
content,  and  cheerfulness. 

Card-playing  is  often  resorted  to  as  an  evening  pastime.     If 


FOURST   MPr, 


131 


c(l  tin  ling 
pci-l'iiiali'cl 

lis  head  ia 

[c  l)olwecii 
mwlh  ol'  a 
)euiii<^  and 
it,  like  diii- 
very  hcdit 
de  tho  dua- 
(jc  pail  bc- 

0  dough  to 
kfast.  Tho 
le  to  relievo 
•r,  lo  ihy  up 

1  further  end 
1,  laidc  littlo 
rthauarillo 

us  of  ail  old 
stories  i)os- 
ned,  hut  inis- 
iro  congenial 

hy  hed,  yoii 
sinew  of  the 
buoyancy  of 

the  camp  is 
s  upward  its 

overhanging 
Lcates  health, 

pastime.     H 


35 


not  provi<K'd  with  candles  or  lamps,  the  lovers  of  this  recreation 
aro  careful  to  select  a  store  of  |tilcliy  knots,  wlio^i.'  lirilliant  com- 
bustion relieves  them  from  all  the  inconvenience  of  darkness. 
Tliis  is,  however,  a  bewiteliiiig  amusement,  and  often  pmves  det- 
rimental to  the  peace  and  rest  of  the  whole  crew,  and  injurious 
also  to  the  interests  of  employers. 

The  last  winter  I  spent  in  the  logging  swam}),  there  were  sev- 
eral ))acks  of  cards  brouglit  into  the  encam[iment  hy  men  in  my 
division.  I  had  resolved  not  to  allow  card-playing  in  my  camp; 
but  how  to  accomplish  my  purpo.se  without  inviting  other  nn- 
jdeasant  results  was  something  to  be  thought  of,  as  that  niati 
imikes  to  himself  an  uncoml'ortahle  birth  who  incurs  the  ill  will 
of  his  comrades  in  any  way,  e.«ipecially  in  the  exercise  of  author- 
ity not  strictly  related  to  the  business  for  which  they  are  em- 
jiloyed,  and  by  an  iniVingement  ujuju  what  they  esteem  their  pri- 
vate and  personal  rights.  Tointing  out  a  pack  of  cards,  while  in 
camp  one  afternoon,  to  the  owner  of  the  same,  at  a  moment  wlien 
lie  was  in  a  decidedly  favorable  mood  for  my  purpose,  "  Come, 
Hobbs,"  said  I,  "burn  them  I"  at  the  same  time  accompanying 
the  remiest  with  the  best  reason  I  could  oiler  to  induce  com])li- 
ance.  Taking  tliem  down,  and  thoughtfully  shullling  them  over 
for  a  minute,  ""Well,"  said  lie,  "they  are  foolish  things,  aint 
they  ?"  Of  course  I  acrpiiesced.  "  Here  goes  I"  said  he,  taking 
the  poker  and  stirring  open  the  hot  bed  of  live  coals,  and  in  they 
went.  The  work  of  extirpation  being  commenced,  he  rifled  the 
knapsacks  of  others  belonging  to  the  crew  of  their  packs  of  cards, 
and  threw  tliem  into  the  fire  also,  pronouncing  deliberately,  "  High, 
low,  Jack,  and  the  game  !"  I  really  expected  a  fuss  when  tho 
matter  should  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  others.  They  sub- 
mitted, however,  to  their  bereavement  like  philosophers.  It 
passed  off  without  any  muss  being  kicked  up,  though  the  agent 
was  a  little  menaced  for  the  liberties  ho  had  taken  in  the  mat- 
ter ;  but  ho  enjoyed  the  sympathies  of  the  instigator. 


111 


I: 

Mr 


U'M 


<l  '    I 


laB 


132 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR 


f  il^ 


I 

I  m 


^{  •••» 


Loggers,  unlike  most  classes  of  men,  are  under  the  necessity 
of  manufacturing  thei' own  songs.*  The  mariner,  the  patri'vt, 
the  soldier,  and  the  lover  have  engaged  the  attention  of  gifted 
bards  in  giving  rhyme  and  measure  to  their  feelings  ;  yet  they 
are  not  without  poetical  sentiment.  The  following  is  inserted  as  a 
specimen  of  log-swamp  literature,  composed  by  one  of  the  loggers  : 

THE  LOGGER'S  BOAST. 
"Come,  all  yc  sons  of  freedom  throughout  the  State  of  Maine, 
Cumo,  all  ye  gallant  lumbermen,  and  listen  to  my  strain ; 
On  the  banks  of  the  Penobscot,  where  the  rapid  waters  flow, 
O!  we'll  range  the  wild  woods  over,  and  a  lumbering  will  go; 
And  a  hunbering  we'll  go,  so  a  hmib<;ring  will  go, 
O !  we'll  range  the  wild  woods  over  while  a  lumbering  we  go. 

When  the  white  frost  gilds  the  valleys,  the  cold  congeals  the  flood ; 
When  many  men  have  naught  to  do  to  earn  their  families  bread ; 
When  the  swollen  streams  are  frozen,  and  the  hills  are  clad  with  snow, 
O!  we'll  range  the  wild  woods  over,  and  a  lumbering  wo  will  go; 
And  a  lumbering  we'll  go,  so  a  lumbering,  &c. 

When  you  pass  through  the  dense  city,  and  pity  all  you  meet. 
To  hear  their  teeth  chattering  as  they  hurry  down  the  street; 
In  the  red  frost-proof  flannel  we're  incased  from  top  to  toe, 
While  we  range  the  wild  woods  over,  and  a  lumbering  wo  go; 
And  a  lumbering  we'll  go,  so  a  lumbering,  &c. 

Yon  may  boast  of  your  gay  parties,  your  pleasures,  and  your  pluys, 
And  pity  us  poor  lumbermen  while  dashing  in  your  sleighs; 
We  want  no  better  pastime  than  to  chase  the  buck  and  doe ; 
O!  we'll  range  the  wild  woods  over,  and  a  lumbering  we  will  go; 
And  a  lumbering  we'll  go,  so  a  lumbering,  &c. 

The  music  of  our  burnished  ax  shall  make  tlie  woods  resound, 
And  many  a  lofty  ancient  Pine  will  tumble  to  the  ground ; 
At  night,  ho !  round  our  good  camp-fire  we  will  sing  while  i*udc  winds  blow 
O!  we'll  range  the  wild  woods  over  while  a  lumbering  we  go; 
And  a  lumbering  we'll  go,  so  a  lumbering,  &c. 

*  I  should  make  one  exception ;  J.  G.  Whittier  has  lifted  his  gifted  pen  for 
Ihem. 


F0UK8T    LIFK. 


133 


3  necessity 
ic  patri' t, 
I  of  gifted 
;  yet  they 
Lserted  as  a 
le  loggers : 


we  go. 
flood ; 

witli  suow, 
ill  go ; 

t, 

pluys, 


11  go; 


kvindsblow 


to: 


lifted  pen  for 


When  winter's  snows  arc  melted,  and  the  ice-bound  streams  are  free, 
We'll  ran  our  logs  to  market,  then  haste  our  friends  to  see ; 
How  kindly  true  hearts  v/elcome  us,  our  wives  and  children  too, 
\Vo  will  spend  with  these  the  summer,  and  once  more  a  lumbering  go ; 
And  a  lumbering  we'll  go,  so  a  lumVjering  we  will  go, 
Wo  will  spend  with  these  the  summer,  and  once  more  a  lumbering  go. 

And  when  upon  the  long-hid  soil  the  white  Pines  disappear, 
We  will  cut  the  other  forest  trees,  and  sow  whereon  we  clear; 
Our  grain  shall  wave  o'er  valleys  rich,  our  herds  bedot  the  hills, 
When  our  feet  no  more  are  hurried  on  to  tend  the  driving  mills; 
Then  no  more  a  lumbering  go,  so  no  more  a  lumbering  go, 
When  our  feet  no  more  are  hurried  on  to  tend  the  driving  mills. 

'When  our  youthful  days  are  ended,'  we  will  cease  from  winter  toils, 
And  each  one  through  the  summer  warm  will  till  the  virgin  soil ; 
*  We've  enough  to  cat,'  to  drink,  to  virear,  content  through  life  to  go. 
Then  we'll  tell  our  wild  adventures  o'er,  and  no  more  a  lumbering  go; 
And  no  more  a  lumbering  go,  so  no  more  a  lumbering  go, 
O!  we'll  tell  our  wild  adventures  o'er,  and  no  more  a  lumbering  go." 

Our  winter  quarters  and  employments  not  unfiequently  hrhig; 
lis  into  collision  with  wild  animals  of  a  formidable  character. 
Of  these  the  "  Indian  devil,"  or  a  species  of  the  catamount,  is 
chief.  We  often  track  animals  of  whom  we  have  never  gained 
sight. 

Passing  along  one  day  in  pursuit  of  timber,  my  attention  was 
arrested  by  a  track  of  uncommon  size  and  appearance.  It  was 
round,  and  about  the  size  of  a  hat  crown,  and  penetrated  the 
snow  v.here  it  would  bear  me.  I  noticed  vidiere  the  creature 
stepped  over  a  large  fallen  tree  about  two  feet  and  a  half  high. 
A  light  snow  several  inches  deep  covered  the  log,  which  he  did 
not  even  brush  with  his  belly  as  he  passed  over  it.  From  the 
nature  of  the  track,  I  knew  he  did  not  jump.  His  legs  could  not 
have  been  less  than  three  feet  in  length.  After  this  discovery,  I 
made  my  way  to  whore  the  rest  of  the  crew  were  at  work  with 
right  good  will.  A  similar  track,  of  probaljjy  this  same  animal, 
has  been  seen  by  many  dilierent  persons  and  parties,  at  places 


Hi 


'li 


1 , 
•I 


:■■■: 


m 


em 


134 


THE    PINE-TREE,  OR 


I 


quite  remote  from  each  other,  for  several  winters;  but  no  one, 
that  I  am  aware  of,  is  satisfied  that  he  has  yet  been  seen,  unless, 
indeed,  by  two  or  three  lads  while  on  the  shore  of  the  Grand 
Lake,  who  were  fishing  out  of  holes  cut  in  the  ice  near  the  shore. 
About  half  a  mile  from  them  a  long  point  made  out  into  the  lake, 
running  parallel  with  the  shore,  which  formed  the  boundary  of 
a  deep  cove.  The  ice  had  become  quite  weak  ;  still,  it  bore  them 
with  safety.  While  busily  engaged  with  their  fishing-tackle, 
their  attention  was  suddenly  arrested  by  a  loud,  splashing  noise, 
as  though  some  one  was  struggling  in  the  water ;  and,  on  look- 
ing for  the  cause,  they  saw  a  large  animal  endeavoring  to  make 
the  main  land,  crossing  directly  from  the  point  toward  them.  He 
continued  to  break  in  every  few  rods,  when  he  would  spring  out 
again  with  the  agility  of  a  cat.  After  getting  out,  he  would  stand 
and  look  round,  then  venture  forward,  and  break  through  as  be- 
fore. The  description  they  gave  of  his  appearance  was  that  he 
looked  just  like  an  immense  cat ;  appeared  to  be  about  four  feet 
high,  and  five  or  six  feet  long,  thick  set  about  the  head  and 
shoulders,  resembling  somewhat  in  this  particular  the  bull-dog. 
His  general  color  was  quite  like  that  of  a  mouse,  or,  to  use  the 
boys'  own  words,  "  bluish,"  with  light  breast  and  belly.  His 
tail  was  very  long,  reaching  down  quite  to  the  ice,  and  curled  up 
at  the  end  ;  this  he  moved  about  just  as  a  cat  moves  its  tail. 
Wailing  but  a  moment  to  gain  this  general  view,  they  made  lor 
home  with  all  possible  disj)atch,  about  one  mile  distant.  Several 
men,  with  guns  and  axes,  immediately  started  for  the  lake,  but 
nothing  further  was  seen  of  him.  The  man.ier  in  which  the  ico 
was  broken  fully  confirmed  the  statement  made  by  the  boys  re- 
Bpecting  the  size  of  this  unknown  creature. 

There  is  an  animal  in  the  deep  recesses  of  our  forests,  evi- 
dently belonging  to  the  feline  race,  which,  on  account  of  its  fe- 
rocity, is  significantly  called  ^'Indian  Devil"  —  in  the  Indian 
language,  "  the  Luiilc  ^Soos ;"  a  terror  to  the  Indians,  and  the  only 


%  1 


FOREST   LIFE. 


13h 


evi- 


lils  fe- 
[udian 
only 


animal  in  New  England  of  ■\vliicli  they  stand  in  dread.  You 
may  speak  oi"  the  moose,  the  bear,  and  the  wolf  even,  and  the 
red  man  is  ready  for  the  chase  and  the  encounter.  But  name 
the  object  of  his  dread,  and  he  will  signilicantly  shake  his  head, 
while  he  exclaims,  ''He  all  one  dcbil  V 

An  individual  by  the  name  of  ►Smith  met  with  the  following 
adventure  in  an  encounter  with  one  of  tliesc  animals  on  the  Ar- 
romucto,  while  on  his  way  to  join  a  crew  engaged  in  timber- 
making  in  the  woods. 

He  had  nearly  reached  the  place  of  encampment,  when  ho 
came  snddenly  upon  one  of  these  ferocious  animals.  There  was 
no  chance  for  retreat,  neither  had  he  time  for  reflection  on  the 
best  metliod  of  defense  or  escape.  As  he  had  no  arms  or  other 
weapons  of  defense,  the  first  impulse,  in  this  truly  fearful  })osition, 
unfortunately,  perhaps,  was  to  spring  into  a  small  tree  near  by  ; 
but  he  had  scarcely  ascended  his  length  when  the  desperate 
creature,  probably  rendered  still  more  fierce  by  the  promptings 
of  hunger,  sprang  upon  and  seized  him  by  the  heel,  »^mith,  how- 
ever, after  having  his  foot  badly  bitten,  disengaged  it  from  the 
shoe,  which  was  firmly  clinched  in  the  creature's  teeth,  and  let 
him  drop.-  The  moment  he  was  disengaged,  Smith  sprang  for  a 
more  secure  position,  and  the  animal  at  the  same  time  leaped  to 
another  large  tree,  about  ten  feet  distant,  up  which  he  ascended 
to  an  elevation  equal  to  that  of  his  victim,  from  which  he  threw 
himself  upon  him,  firmly  fixing  his  teeth  in  the  calf  of  his  leg. 
Hanging  suspended  thus  until  the  flesh,  insufficient  to  sustain 
tlie  M'cight,  gave  way,  lie  dropped  again  to  the  ground,  carry- 
ing a  portion  of  flesh  in  his  mouth.  Having  greedily  devoured 
this  morsel,  he  bounded  again  up  the  op})osite  tree,  and  from 
thence  upon  iSmith,  in  this  maimer  renev/ing  his  attacks,  and 
tearing  away  the  flush  in  moutlifuls  IVcnn  his  legs.  During  this 
agonizing  operation,  •^mitli  contrived  to  cut  a  limb  from  the  tree, 
to  which  he  numaged  to  bind  his  jack-knife,  with  whi(;h  he  could 


il  -SA 


13G 


THE   PINE-TREE,   OR 


•  t 


^ 


i  I 


l^i 


1     ll 


now  apsail  his  enemy  at  ever}'^  leap.  He  succeeded  thus  in  wound- 
ing h'.m  so  badly  that  at  length  his  attacks  were  discontinued, 
and  he  finally  disappeared  in  the  dense  forest. 

During  the  encounter,  Smith  had  exerted  his  voice  to  the  ut- 
most to  alarm  the  crew,  who,  he  hoped,  might  be  within  hail. 
He  was  heard,  and  in  a  short  time  several  of  the  crew  reached 
the  place,  but  not  in  time  to  save  him  from  the  dreadful  encoun- 
ter. The  sight  was  truly  appalling.  His  garments  were  not 
only  rent  from  him,  but  the  flesh  literally  torn  from  his  legs, 
exposing  even  the  bone  and  sinews.  It  was  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  he  made  the  descent  of  the  tree.  Exhausted  through 
loss  of  blood,  and  overcome  by  fright  and  exertion,  he  sunk  upon 
the  ground  and  immediately  fainted  ;  but  the  application  of  snow 
restored  him  to  consciousness.  Preparing  a  litter  from  poles  and 
boughs,  they  conveyed  him  to  the  camp,  washed  and  dressed  his 
wounds  as  well  as  circumstances  would  allow,  and,  as  soon  as 
possible,  removed  him  to  the  settlement,  where  medical  aid  was 
secured.  After  a  protracted  period  of  confinement,  he  gradually 
recovered  from  his  wounds,  though  still  carrying  terrible  scars, 
and  sustaining  irreparable  injury.  Such  desperate  encount'^rs 
are,  however,  of  rare  occurrence,  though  collisions  less  sanguinary 
are  not  unfrequcnt. 

On  one  occasion,  we  tracked  one  of  those  animals  where  wc 
had  the  day  before  been  at  work.  From  appearances,  he  seemed 
to  have  something  unusual  attached  to  one  of  his  fore  feet,  which 
we  judged  to  be  a  common  steel  trap.  Returning  to  the  camp 
for  the  gun  and  a  lunch,  two  men  started  in  pursuit.  They  fol- 
lowed him  three  days  before  overtaking  him.  In  one  place  on 
the  route  they  measured  a  bound  of  fifteen  feet,  which  he  made 
to  take  a  rabbit,  which  he  caught  and  devoured,  leaving  only 
small  portions  of  the  hide  and  fur  of  his  victim.  From  the  course 
traveled,  it  was  evident  that  he  was  aware  of  his  pursuers,  whom 
he  unquestionably  desired  to  avoid.     On  the  third  day  they  camo 


FORKST    LIFE. 


I'M 


wound- 

1 

itinucd, 

the  ut- 

in  hail. 

reached 

cncoun- 

icre  not 

lis  legs, 

1 

greatest 

1 

through 

) 

nk  ii])on 

i 

i 

i 

of  snow 

»oles  and 

[?ssed  his 

soon  as 

'' 

aid  was 

I 

radually 

Ic  scars, 

1 

pount'^rs 

\ 

Lguiuary 

licrc  wc 

1  seemed 

K,  which 

'■'" 

le  camp 

Biey  fol- 

Blace  on 

le  made 

mS  only 

■  ; 

H  course 

1 

1,  whom 

^H 

;« 

By  camu 

1 

H^ 

\ 

in  sight  of  him  Tor  the  first  time.  No  longer  retreating  ))eltn-e 
his  pursuers,  he  now  turned  upon  them.  Aware  tliat  they  could 
have  but  one  shot,  it  being  impossible  to  reload  belore  he  would 
be  upon  them,  tliey  sullered  liim  to  approach  very  near,  to  make 
their  aim  more  certain.  The  forest  echoed  with  the  report  of 
the  discharge  ;  the  shot  took  ellect,  and  a  furious  scullle  folloM'cd. 
The  snow  flew,  while  the  enraged  and  furious  growl  and  gr  ash- 
ing teeth  mingled  with  the  clattering  trap,  and  the  echo  of  the 
powerful  blows  inflicted  upon  his  head  with  the  shivered  breach 
of  the  gun,  under  which  he  yielded  his  life  to  his  superior  pur- 
suers. 

But  there  is  no  animal  among  us  with  whom  encounters  are 
so  frequent  as  the  common  black  bear.  Their  sujierior  strength, 
the  skill  with  wiiich  they  ward  ofi'  blows,  and  even  wrench  an 
instrument  from  the  hand  of  an  as^sailant,  and  their  tenacity  of 
life,  render  them  really  a  formidable  antagonist.  We  liave  .'Some- 
times been  diverted,  as  well  as  severely  annoyed,  hy  their  thiev- 
ish tricks.  In  ue  instance  we  were  followed  several  days  by 
one  of  them  on  uur  passage  up  river,  who  seemed  erpially  bent 
on  mischief  and  plunder.  The  first  of  our  acquaintance  with 
him  occurred  while  encamped  at  the  mouth  of  a  small  stream, 
whose  channel  wc  were  improving  by  the  removal  of  large  rocks 
which  obstructed  log-driving.  Our  camp  was  merely  temporary, 
so  that  all  our  goods  were  exposed.  While  we  were  asleep  dur- 
ing the  night,  he  came  upon  our  premises,  and  selected  from  the 
baggage  a  bundle  containing  all  the  winter  clothing  of  one  of  the 
iiieii — boots,  shaving  tools,  hQ. 

His  curiosity  was  too  great  to  allow  of  a  far  removal  of  the 
pack  without  an  examination  of  its  contents  ;  and  never  did  deji- 
uty  inspector  or  constable  jierform  a  more  thorough  search.  Du- 
ties on  the  package  were  inadmissible  ;  the  goods  were  esteemed 
contraband,  and  were  accordingly  confiscated.  The  wearing  a])- 
parel  was  torn  into  shreds.     There  was  a  pair  of  stout  cow-hide 


% 


■A     ■ 


;    1 


% 


t   ■ 

If 


1 
i  9 


i 


138 


THE    riNE-TRET:,    OR 


la     i' 


■rii 


i     ia 


boots,  of  which  ho  tried  the  flavor ;  they  were  chewed  up  and 
Kpoik'd.  The  razor  did  not  escape  his  inquisitivcness.  Whellier 
he  attempted  to  shave  wc  say  not,  hut  he  tested  its  palatableness 
by  chewing-  up  the  handle. 

From  this  position  wo  removed  a  few  miles  further  up  stream, 
where  we  were  to  construct  a  dam,  the  object  of  which  was  to 
ilow  the  lake,  to  obtain  a  pood  head  of  water  for  sprinf?  driving-. 
This  job  beinf^  somewhat  lenfrthy,  we  erected  a  more  permanent 
camp  for  our  convenience.  A  few  evenings  after  our  settlement 
at  this  point,  while  all  hands  were  in  camp,  we  heard  some  one 
movinjT  about  on  the  roof,  where  a  ten-gallon  keg  of  molasses 
was  deposited.  At  first  it  was  supposed  to  be  a  trick  by  some 
one  of  the  crew  ;  but,  on  looking  round,  there  Avas  no  one  missing. 

Suspectin'^  with  more  certainty  the  character  of  our  visitor, 
we  seized  a  fire-brand  or  two,  and  sallied  forth  like  a  disturbed 
garrison  of  ants,  when  we  discovered  that  we  were  minus  a  keg 
of  molasses.  Following  in  the  direction  of  the  retreating  thief, 
we  found  the  keg  but  a  few  rods  distant,  setting  on  one  end,  with 
the  other  torn  out.  He  evidently  had  intended  a  feast,  but,  in- 
timidated by  the  fire-brands  and  the  hallooing,  he  had  retreated 
precipitately  into  his  native  haunts  ;  but  only,  as  it  would  seem, 
to  ])lan  another  theft.  About  two  hours  afterward,  when  all  was 
still,  a  noise  was  again  heard  in  the  door-yard,  similar  to  that  of 
a  hog  rooting  among  the  chips,  where  the  cook  had  thrown  his 
potato  parings.  Peering  through  the  crack  of  the  camp  door, 
sure  enough,  there  was  Bruin  again,  apparently  as  much  at  home 
as  a  house-dog. 

We  had  a  gun,  but  improvidently  had  left  our  ammunition 
at  another  place  of  deposit,  about  a  hundred  rods  distant.  Re- 
solved upon  chastising  him  for  his  insolence  in  the  event  of  an- 
other visit,  the  lantern  was  lighted,  and  the  ammunition  soon 
brought  to  camp. 

The  gun  was  now  cliarged  with  powder  and  two  bullets.     Wc 


I 


f 


I 


FOREST   LIFE. 


139 


up  and 

I'liclhcr 
Lbleufss 

stream, 
was  to 
ilriving. 
■manciit 
tlcrueiit 
Dine  ODC 
iiolasscs 
by  some 
missing. 
•  visitor, 
[isturbed 
us  a  keg 
^ig  thief, 
nd,  with 
3Ut,  iii- 
etreated 
d  seem, 
all  was 
that  of 
own  his 
np  door, 
it  home 

mnition 
t.     Ho- 
of an- 
on soon 

s.     Wo 


waited  some  time  for  his  return,  first  removing  a  strip  from  tlie 
camp  door  lor  a  })ort-hole.  Hearing  nothing  of  him,  all  hands 
turned  in  again.  About  twelve  o'clock  at  night  he  made  us  his 
third  visit  in  the  door-yard,  as  before,  and  directly  in  front  of  the 
camp,  oH'ering  a  most  inviting  shot.  Creeping  softly  to  the  door, 
and  passing  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  through  the  prepared  aper- 
ture, our  eye  glanced  along  the  barrel,  thence  to  a  dark  object 
not  thirty  feet  distant.  A  gentle  but  nervous  pressure  upon  the 
trigger,  a  flash,  a  sheet  of  fire,  and  the  very  woods  shook  with 
the  reverberating  rc])ort,  which  sent  Bruin  away  upon  a  plunging 
gallop.  The  copious  cflusion  of  warm  blood  which  spirted  on 
the  chips  was  evidence  that  the  leaden  messenger  had  faithful- 
ly done  its  duty.  A  portion  of  his  lights  were  shot  away,  and 
dro])ped  to  the  ground,  which  convinced  us  that  he  was  mortal- 
ly wounded,  and  that  it  would  not  be  possible  for  him  to  run  far. 
►Seizing  as  many  lire-brands  as  could  be  procured,  with  axes,  and 
the  gun  reloaded,  all  hands  dashed  into  the  forest  after  him,  half 
naked,  just  as  they  had  risen  from  the  bed,  leaping,  yelling,  and 
swinging  their  iire-brands  like  so  many  wild  spirits  from  the  re- 
gions of  fire. 

G  uided  in  the  pursuit  by  the  cracking  of  rotten  limbs  and  the 
rustling  of  leaves  as  he  heavily  plunged  on,  we  pursued  him 
through  a  dense  swamp.  From  the  increased  distinctness  with 
which  we  heard  his  step,  it  was  evident  we  were  gaining  uj)on 
him.  kSoon  we  heard  his  labored  breathing.  Just  before  wo 
overtook  him,  he  merged  from  the  swamp,  and  with  much  exer- 
tion ascended  a  slight  elevation,  covered  with  a  fine  growth  of 
canoe  Birch,  where,  from  exhaustion  and  loss  of  blood,  he  lay 
down,  and  suffered  us  to  surround  him.  The  inflammable  bark 
of  the  Birch  was  instantly  ignited  all  round  us,  presenting  a  brill- 
iant and  wild  illumination,  which  lent  its  influence  to  a  most  un- 
bounded enthusiasm,  while  our  war-dance  was  performed  around 
the  captured  and  slain  marauder.     Taken  altogether,  the  scene 


'"  1 


1 


f 


140 


TFIE    PINK-TREE,   OR 


H   W 


i     if' 


^(1 


,i  * 


presented  one  of  the  most  lively  collections  oi'  material  for  the 
pencil  that  we  liavc  ever  contemi)late(l.  There  were  uncom- 
mon brilliancy,  lil'o,  and  animation  in  the  j.a'onp.  Alter  dispatch- 
ing-, wo  strunj^  him  up  and  dressed  him  on  the  spot,  taking  only 
one  quarter  of  his  carcass,  with  the  hide,  back  to  camp. 

A  portion  of  this  was  served  up  next  morning  for  breakfast; 
but  while  the  sinewy,  human-like  appearance  of  the  fore  leg 
miglit  have  whetted  the  appetite  of  a  cannibal,  a  contrary  in- 
fluence was  exerted  on  ours. 

More  sanguinary  was  the  following  encounter,  which  took  place 
in  the  vicinity  of  Tara-height,  on  the  Madawaska  lliver  :  "  A 
trap  had  been  set  by  one  of  the  men,  named  Jacob  Harrison, 
who,  being  out  in  search  of  a  yoke  of  oxen  on  the  evening  in  ques- 
tion, saw  a  young  bear  fast  in  the  trap,  and  three  others  close  at 
hand  in  a  very  angry  mood,  a  fact  which  rendered  it  necessary 
for  him  to  make  tracks  immediately.  On  arriving  at  the  farm, 
he  gave  the  alarm,  and,  seizing  an  old  dragoon  saber,  he  was  fol- 
lowed to  the  scene  of  action  by  Mr.  James  Burke,  armed  with  a 
gun,  and  the  other  man  with  an  ax. 

"  They  proceeded  direct  to  the  trap,  supplied  with  a  rope,  in- 
tending to  take  the  young  bear  alive.  It  being  a  short  time 
after  dark,  objects  could  not  be  distinctly  seen  ;  but,  on  approach- 
ing close  to  the  scene  of  action,  a  crashing  among  the  leaves  and 
dry  branches,  with  sundry  other  indications,  warned  them  of  the 
proximity  of  the  old  animals.  When  within  a  few  steps  of  the 
S})ot,  a  dark  mass  was  seen  on  the  ground — a  growl  was  heard — 
and  the  confined  beast  made  a  furious  leap  on  Jacob,  who  was 
in  advance,  catching  him  by  the  legs.  The  infuriated  animal 
inflicted  a  severe  wound  on  his  knee,  upon  which  he  drew  his 
sword,  and  defended  himself  with  great  coolness. 

"  Upon  receiving  several  wounds  from  the  saber,  the  cub  com- 
menced to  growl  and  cry  in  a  frightful  and  peculiar  manner, 
when  the  old  she-bear,  attracted  to  the  spot,  rushed  on  the  ad- 


ior  tlie 
micom- 

iig  only 

tore  leg 
raiy  iu- 

ok  place 
cr:  "A 
lavrisoii, 
ill  qncs- 
;  close  at 
iccessiary 
the  fan  11. 
;  was  I'ol- 
(1  with  a 

rope,  in- 
tort  liniG 
Lppi'oacli- 
aves  and 
|m  of  the 
)S  of  tlic 
heard — 
rho  was 
aiiiiiial 
Idrcw  his 

3ub  com- 

I  manner, 

the  ad- 


FOUKriT    LIFE. 


Ill 


venturous  Harri<:on,  and  attacked  him  from  behind  with  ^n-eat 
ferocity.  Jacob  turned  ii])on  the  now  foe,  and  wielded  his  trusty 
weapon  witli  sucii  ener^'y  and  success,  that  in  a  short  time  he 
deprived  her  of  one  of  her  lore  paws  by  a  lucky  stroke,  and  com- 
pletely disabled  her  eventually  by  a  desperate  cut  across  the 
neck,  which  divided  the  tendons  and  severed  the  spinal  vertebric. 
Havin<i:  com])leted  his  coiujuest  (in  achieving  which  he  found  the 
sword  a  better  weajjon  than  the  ax.,  the  animal  being  unable  to 
knock  it  from  his  liana,  -.cry  attempt  to  do  so  being  followed  by 
a  wound),  he  had  ample  time  to  dispatch  the  imprisoned  cub  at 
leisure. 

'*  During  the  time  this  stlrrhig  and  dangerous  scene  we  have 
related  was  enacting,  war  was  going  on  in  equally  bloody  and 
vigorous  style  at  a  short  distance.  j\lr.  Burke,  having  discharged 
his  gun  at  the  other  old  bear,  only  slightly  wounded  him  ;  the 
enraged  Bruin  S])rang  at  him  M'itli  a  furious  howl.  He  was  met 
with  a  blow  from  the  butt-end  of  the  fowling-j)icce.  At  the 
first  stroke  the  stock  ilew  in  pieces,  and  the  next  the  heavy  bar- 
rel was  hurled  a  distance  of  twenty  feet  among  the  uiulerwood 
by  a  side  .blow  from  the  dexterous  paw  of  the  bear.  Mr.  Burke 
then  retreated  a  few  feet  and  placed  his  back  against  a  large 
Hemlock,  followed  the  while  closely  by  the  bear,  but,  being  ac- 
quainted with  the  nature  of  the  animal  and  his  mode  of  attack, 
he  drew  a  large  hunting-knife  from  his  belt,  and,  placing  his  arms 
by  his  side,  coolly  awaited  the  onset. 

"  The  maddened  brute  a})proached,  growling  and  gnashing  his 
teeth,  and  with  a  savage  .sjiring  encircled  the  body  ot"  the  hunter 
and  the  tree  in  his  iron  gripe.  The  next  moment  the  Hashing 
blade  of  the  couicait  cIkd^^c  tore  his  abdomen,  and  his  smoking 
entrails  rolled  upon  the  ground.  At  this  exciting  crisis  of  the 
struggle,  the  other  man,  accompanied  by  the  dog,  came  up  in 
time  to  witness  the  triumphal  close  of  the  conflict. 

"  Two  old  bears  and  a  cub  were  the  fruits  of  this  dangerous 


II 


iMIilii 


142 


THE   riNE-TRl.R,   OR 


adventure — all  exlremcly  fat — tlie  larpfost  of  which,  it  is  com- 
puted, would  wei^h  upward  of  two  huudred  and  flfly  pounds.  Wo 
have  seldom  heard  of  a  more  (lau«j:erous  encounter  with  bears, 
and  we  are  happy  to  say  that  Mr.  Thuke  received  no  injury ;  and 
Mr.  Jacob  Harrison,  althou'^h  torn  severely,  and  havin^^  three  ribs 
brolcen,  recovered  under  the  care  of  an  Indian  doctor  of  the  Al- 
goncjuin  tribe." 


i  ■. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Provision  Teams. — Liabilitios. — A  Night  in  llio  Woods. — Traveling  on  Ice.— 
A  Span  of  ITorsos  li)st. — Pat's  Adventuro. — l)rog(!rs'  Caravan. — Horses  in 
tho  Water. — Rccovciy  of  a  fiunkon  Load. — Returning  Vohintecrs  from 
Aroostook. — I>escri[)tion  of  a  Log  Tavern. — Perils  on  Lakes  in  Snow-storms. 
— Camping  at  Night. — Kudo  Ferry-boats. 

After  the  swamps,  rivers,  and  lakes  freeze,  and  the  fallen 
snow  has  covered  the  ground,  supplies  for  the  rest  of  the  winter 
and  spring  operations,  consisting  of  hay,  grain,  flour,  beef,  pork, 
molasses,  kc,  are  hauled  on  to  the  ground  with  horse-teams.  In 
some  instances  the  route  extends  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
from  the  head  of  ship  navigation.  As  these  routes,  for  the  most 
part,  lay  through  dense  forests,  over  rough  roads,  along  the  fro- 
zen channels  of  rivers,  across  bleak  and  expansive  lakes,  far  re- 
moved from  the  fireside  and  home  of  the  hardy  logger,  there  is 
something  of  the  hardships  of  adventure,  if  not  its  romance,  con- 
nected with  the  experience  of  these  transporting  teams  during 
their  winter  trips. 

Sometimes  loaded  sleds  break  down  in  their  passage  over  tho 
rough  forest  roads,  or  horses  tire  by  extra  exertion  over  untrod- 
den snows,  and  night  overtakes  the  lone  teamster,  many  iiiiies 
from  the  abode  of  any  human  being,  amid  frosts  and  snow,  with- 


m 


FOUKST    I.ri'K. 


113 


!  com- 
1.    Wo 

bears, 
y' ;  1111(1 
:ec  ril)S 
Lho  Al- 


on  Ice. — 
Horses  in 
Rcrs  from 
vv-8tonu3. 

ic  fallen 
winter 
if,  pork, 
s.     In 
y  miles 
llie  most 
itho  fro- 
I,  far  rc- 
Ithcrc  is 
ce,  con- 
during 

Ivev  tlio 

Imitrod- 

ly  miles 

witli- 


H^- 


out  fire  and  Avilhoiit  comrnrtalde  suslenauoe.  Dotacliiiija^  liis 
horses,  and  eovoriii^  them  vviUi  lln-ir  lihiidu'ts,  il' he  l)i.>  loaded 
with  lia',',  lie  aUows  them  to  feed  iVoiii  the  hiad  (hiriiijjf  the  iii^lil, 
while,  mullK'd  in  his  eoat,  he  biaTt)WS  deep  in  the  hay,  altern- 
ately lulled  and  aroused  by  the  tinlvlin<r  <»!'  the  horses'  bells  and 
by  tlie  howlinpf  of  the  huufj^ry  wolf.  {Sometimes  the  treaeherous 
iee  parts  beneath  his  horses,  and  the  swift  current  carries  them 
under,  hidin^^  them  in  a  moment  and  forever  from  his  vision.  I 
recollect  the  occurrence  of  the  followin<^  thrilliiif^  event.  It  is 
customary  to  travel  on  ice  as  far  as  it  makes  on  the  rivers  and 
streams,  takiuf^  to  the  shore  to  pass  the  open  and  rapid  sections, 
and  then  returniuij  to  the  river  and  travelinn^  as  bel'ore.  Re- 
turnin<2:  homeward,  after  a  trip  into  the  woods  with  a  load  of  pro- 
vision, just  at  iiii^htfall,  mi^ht  have  been  seen  a  span  of  fine  horses, 
measuring  oil' their  ten  miles  an  hour  with  the  case  and  fleetness 
of  reindeers,  upon  the  smooth  surface  of  one  of  our  eastern  rivers 
far  up  in  the  interior.  AVitli  vision  circunucribed  ]»y  the  sratli- 
cring  darkness,  and  misjud«Ting  his  position,  i]ie  driver,  rpiietly 
sealed  upon  his  sled,  failed  to  sec  the  dancfer  in  season  to  cheek 
the  speed  of  his  horses,  when  suddenly  he  plunged  into  one  of 
those  open  places  in  the  river  where  the  water  ran  too  rapidly  to 
aUow  it  to  freeze.  A  few  rods  below  the  iee  closed  over  again, 
beneath  which  the  current  swept  with  fearful  rapidity.  With 
the  teamster  still  floating  upon  the  half-sunken  sled,  tlie  hor,>;es 
swam  directly  down  with  the  current  to  the  edge  of  the  ice  be- 
low. The  moment  they  reached  it,  the  noble  creatures,  as  if  con- 
fident of  clearing  the  chilling  clement  at  a  bound,  simullaneously 
reared,  and,  striking  their  fore  feet  upon  the  ice,  their  hinder  parts 
sniik  hi  the  deep  channel,  and,  falling  backward,  they  were  swept 
beneath  the  ice,  together  with  the  sled  attached,  and  were  drown- 
ed, while  the  teamster  alone  escaped  by  springing  from  the  sled 
before  it  went  under. 

"When  a  team  breaks  in  where  the  water  is  stagnant,  a  delib- 


ti 


ifj 


lii 


Till',  ri\i:-'rui:r,,  fiR 


h  f'^ 


II 


or.'ito   aiul  oiilciihitiii'f  loiiuiMli'r  iiuiy  Kiipcerd   iu  i'Xt»i(';iliii<r  liis 


horsuH,  \vliil(.'  a  Hliil'tlcy.s  111:111  will   let  lliciii  drovvi 


<n 


iitK 


man  oi'  my  acMjiKiinlaiice  Jianicsscd  a  liiu'  inure  info  a  biii^^le 
sled,  loaded  \villi  ]irovisi(»iis,  ^vlli('ll  he  sent  by  an  Irislunan  n|) 
into  the  woods!  tt)  his  lo<r«,nn^-(Nimj)S.  Wiiile  jjassintj;  tlic  river,  the 
liorse  broke  iu,  and,  iil'ler  Ktrn«i|flin^^  several  liuurs,  sank  thron^fji 
exlianstion  and  chill,  ami  was  drowned. 

In  •,nvin}X  a  brief  account  oC  the  alliiir,  Pat,  evidently  aflected 
by  the  disaster,  observed,  "  Ah  !  indade,  sir,  but  she  looked  at  uw. 
very  wishlnlly,  indade  she  did,  sir  I"  "  Bui  why  did  you  not  hel|) 
lier,  J'alrick  .'"  "  'Dade,  sir,  un'  didn't  1  put  on  the  wiiii)  jjietty 
smartly,  sure  T' 

It  is  quite  common  for  drogers,  as  they  arc  sometimes  called, 
to  form  a  northern  caravan,  by  congre<falin<:(  together  in  their 
up-river  tours  to  the  number  of  twenty,  and  sometimes  thirty 
t«'ams.  ISomo  of  these  are  composed  of  two  horses,  and  others 
from  four  to  six.  Comi»aiiy,  and  mutual  assistance  in  cases  of 
necessity,  arc  the  motives  which  unite  them,  and  the  diHicultieH 
which  they  encounter  often  call  into  requisition  this  friendly  in- 
terference. 

I  was  once  passing  up  the  Penobscot  in  company  with  twenty 
or  thirty  horse-teams,  all  loaded  with  snp])lies,  immediately  after 
a  thaw,  which  had  so  far  wastetl  tlie  snow  that  wo  were  obliged 
to  leave  the  land  road,  and,  at  some  risk,  venture  upon  the  ice, 
although  in  many  places  it  was  thin,  and  covered  with  water  to 
tJie  depth  of  two  feet. 

It  was  deemed  prvulent  to  form  a  line  with  the  teams  at  such 
distances  apart  as  would  subject  the  ice  to  tlie  pressure  of  one 
team  only  on  a  given  point,  the  whole  preceded  by  a  man  with 
ax  in  hand  to  test  its  capacity  to  bear  the  approaching  load.  In 
some  instances,  where  the  current  was  stagnant,  the  ice  was  suf- 
iiciently  strong  to  bear  us  for  a  mile  or  two  without  much  alter- 
ation in  our  course.     In  places  where  the  swiftness  of  the  cur- 


:  his* 
lit  lo- 


rn^' 


I.'. 
r,  the 

r.'oioil 

at  11  H» 
)t  hell) 

pretty 

calletl, 
u  thoiv 
i  thirty 
I  others 

asos  of 

k'liltios 

udly  iu- 

iweuty 

•ly  after 

ohli«:?ed 

Ithe  iee, 

•ater  to 

at  sucli 
of  one 
laii  with 
lad.     Vvi 
Iwiis  s\if- 
•h  alter- 
Ithc  cur- 


FORKST    1.1  FR. 


llfl 


rent  liad  prevented  the  forniation  of  ice  of  suitahle  thi('l<iie>is,  wn 
were  obH<,^ed  to  use  much  caution,  passinj^  from  one  side  of  tlie 
river  to  the  other  to  avoid  suspicious  places,  makin^r  hut  lilllt5 
lirofj^ress  in  our  nerpentine  patli.  In  this  ,1.  .several  miles  liad 
heen  traveh'd  without  accident,  which  i  '  d  our  i)ih)t  to  ex- 
ercise less  vifjilance,  when  suddenly  the  luno  was  broken  hy  the 
disappearance  of  one  team  thron<rh  the  ice.  Tlie  alarm  passed 
ulon;^  the  line,  witii  the  order  to  "  Hold  up  I  a  team  in  I"  "  Don't 
close  up  ;  we  shall  all  he  in  totiether  !"  But  teamsters  are  afraid 
of  ice  over  a  runniufj  current ;  indeed,  there  is  imminent  dan^'cr 
to  life  under  such  circumstances.  Some  reined  up  ;  others,  tak- 
inpf  alarm,  made  for  the  shore  ;  others  put  their  horses  into  the 
run  and  passed  hy  ;  while  others,  more  co(d  and  <reuerous,  cam(? 
to  the  rescue  of  the  drowninij:  team.  It  })roved  to  be  a  pair  of 
our  lu'aviest  horses.  The  load  consisted  of  thirteen  barrels  of 
pork,  with  other  lighter  articles,  the  whole  team  antl  load  weigh- 
in«(  over  three  tons.  It  was  the  work  of  but  a  few  moments  to 
extricate  the  horses,  after  disenpaj^ini^f  them  from  their  harness. 
The  harrels  rolled  from  the  sled,  and  sank  in  fifteen  feet  of  wa- 
ter. The  most  of  the  teamsters  concurred  in  the  opinion  that 
the  harrels  were  not  recoverahle  ;  but,  procurinj^  a  long  pole, 
with  a  sharp  pike  in  the  end,  I  ran  it  down  and  stuck  it  ilrmly 
into  one  of  the  staves,  and  raised  one  barrel  with  perfect  ease  to 
the  surface.  A  rope  was  thrown  around  it,  by  which  it  was 
rolled  out  upon  the  firm  ice.  Thus  one  after  another  was  fisluid 
u]),  reloaded,  and  wo  were  under  way  again  in  less  than  an  hour. 
About  noon  we  stopped  to  feed  the  horses  aiul  take  some  din- 
ner on  the  ice.  Unloosing  the  straps  which  attached  the  horses 
to  the  pole,  we  proceeded  to  bait.  While  thus  situated,  a  com- 
pany of  volunteers,  returning  from  the  bloodless  boundary  war 
on  the  Aroostook,  passed  us,  who,  to  amuse  themselves,  wantonly 
discharged  a  volley  of  musketry,  which  created  a  tremendous  pan- 
ic among  our  horses,  causing  them  to  upset  several  loads,  break- 


ii 


t  I 

I  \ 


t 


'  .  la 


140 


THE    riNE-TREE,   OR 


t' 


in^  harnesses,  and  doing-  other  dama|:^e,  which  occasioned  consid- 
erable dehiy,  and  much  swearing  among  the  exasperated  team- 
sters. One  of  our  little  teamsters  was  so  enraged  that  he  chal- 
lenged the  whole  company  to  fight  him.  I  really  believe  ho 
would  have  engaged  any  one,  or  any  number  of  them,  had  they 
halted. 

During  the  first  three  or  four  days'  travel,  particularly  up  the 
Penobscot,  wc  find  taverns  at  convenient  distances  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  travelers,  after  which  we  leave,  on  some  of  the 
up-river  rouies,  all  settlements,  for  the  distant  and  wild  locations 
of  the  logging-camps.  All  along  these  solitary  routes,  at  con- 
venient distances,  of  late  years,  log  shanties  have  been  erected 
for  tbi!  accommodation,  principally,  of  supply-teams,  where,  dur- 
ing the  winter,  the  temporary  inn-holders  do  a  driving  business, 
abandoning  the  premises  when  the  traveling  season  is  over. 


It  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  take  a  peep  into  one  of  these 
log  taverns.  Wc  see  hero,  then,  rude  walls  thrown  up  of  round 
logs,  notched  togotlior  at  the  oiuls — a  building  about  as  high  as 
a  conniion  onc-nlory  lionr^c,  covered  with  ^liinglcs  laid  upon  ribs 


I 


( 
f 


m 


FOREST    LIFE. 


147 


consid- 
i  team- 
le  clial- 
ieve  he 
lad  tlicy 

y  up  the 
f  the  ac- 
iic  of  the 

locations 
3,  at  con- 
n.  erected 
here,  dur- 
r  business, 

over. 


SSs 


le  of  those 
Ip  of  round 
las  hi|j;h  as 
u^tou  viits 


^ 


\ 


only.  Those  arc  so  closely  put  tof^ethcr  that  common  short  shin- 
pies  may  be  laid  on  them  quite  as  •well  as  if  the  roof  were  board- 
ed— a  plan  frequently  adopted  in  new  country  settlements,  where 
boards  are  not  to  be  obtained.  This  buildinj^  is  divided  by  a  par- 
tition into  two  apartments,  in  one  of  which,  perhaps  in  the  cor- 
ner, a  huf^c  fire-place  is  constructed  of  rude  stones,  to  the  helf^ht 
of  six  or  seven  feet,  where  a  large  wooden  mantle-bar  is  thrown 
across,  from  which  point,  with  small  split  sticks,  straw,  and  clay, 
it  is  topped  out  in  the  fashion  of  a  chimney.  This  is  the  cook, 
eating,  sitting,  bar,  and  often  the  card-playing  room,  where  team- 
sters, in  crowded  numbers,  enjoy  all  the  luxuries  which  their  cir- 
cumstances will  admit,  one  of  which  is  a  most  excellent  appetite. 
The  other  room  is  strictly  appropriated  to  sleeping  purposes,  with 
births  rudely  constructed,  in  tiers  one  above  the  other  (with  a 
space  between  the  feet  and  fire),  similar  to  the  accommodations 
on  board  a  vessel,  so  that  in  a  space  seven  by  thirty  feet  sixty 
men  may  be  accommodated  with  lodging.  Such  a  number  of 
men,  crowded  into  an  area  of  so  scanty  dimensions,  might  be  sup- 
posed to  sufi'er  inconvenience  from  confined  and  impure  air ;  but 
the  ready  access  which  the  twinkling  star-light  and  sparkling 
hoar-frost  find  to  the  apartment  through  the  numerous  unstopped 
crevices  warrants  a  more  agreeable  conclusion. 

Thus  sociably,  quietly,  and  snugly  ensconced  within  that  rudo 
shelter,  enveloped  and  surrounded  with  interminable  forests,  the 
hours  of  darkness  arc  passed,  while  without,  the  piercing  cold 
causes  even  the  nestling  trees  to  quake  as  the  wings  of  the  wild 
winter  night  labor  with  the  furious  snow-storm. 

Sometimes  a  portion  of  the  route  lays  across  large  lakes,  whero 
the  bleak  winds  pierce,  or  the  dense  snow-storm  thickens  the  at- 
mosphere, and  obliterates  alike  the  path  and  the  shore  from  sight. 
I  have  known  teamsters,  while  crossing  these  icy  regions,  sud- 
denly overtaken  by  snow-storms  so  dense  as  to  circumscribe  the 
compass  of  vision  to  thirty  rods,  and  to  be  comi>elled  to  ■vvander 


.  .  f* 


n 


u 


r 


148 


THE    PINE-TREE,    OR    FOREST    LIFE. 


Mi 


all  day  long  upon  those  bleak  fields  before  they  were  able  to  find 
the  logging-road  which  formed  their  egress  from  the  lake. 

Belated  at  other  times,  night  overtakes  them  on  the  ice.  In 
such  cases,  where  it  is  not  deemed  prudent  to  proceed,  they  find 
access  to  the  shore,  where  the  thick  evergreen  forest  trees  aflbrd 
some  protection  from  the  night  winds.  Here  a  fire  is  kindled, 
some  coarse  boughs  plucked  and  thrown  upon  the  snow,  upon 
which  a  buflalo-skin  is  spread,  and  with  a  similar  covering  they 
repose,  after  snugly  blanketing  their  horses.  A  biscuit  of  pilot- 
bread,  with  a  "  frizzled"  slice  of  pork,  constitute  their  repast — 
ten  to  one  if  it  be  not  rinsed  down  with  a  draught  of  "fire-wa- 
ter" from  the  little  canteen  in  the  pea-jacket  pocket.  On  some 
routes  early  fall  trips  arc  made  with  loads  of  camp  supplies  on 
wheels,  over  very  rough  roads,  before  the  rivers  and  streams 
freeze.  These  are  crossed  upon  a  raft  made  of  poles  or  logs  ca- 
pable of  bearing  a  portion  only  of  the  load,  which  is  carried  over 
in  parcels,  according  to  the  capacity  or  tonnage  of  the  rude  ferry- 
boat ;  sometimes  swimming,  and  at  others  transporting  the  horses 
singly  on  the  raft.  In  like  manner  we  manage  with  our  ox- 
teams,  when  we  take  an  early  start  for  the  scene  of  our  winter 
operations. 


f- 


i 


( 


r 


( 

r 

d 
t 
t] 
t( 


to  find 


ce.     In 
ley  find 
s  allord 
kindled, 
V,  upon 
ng  tliey 
of  pilot- 
repast — 
'  firc-wa- 
On  some 
pplics  on 

streams 
f  logs  ca- 
ried  over 
ide  ferry- 
he  horses 
our  ox- 

r  winter 


i 


* 


RIVER  LIFE. 


PAET  III. 

CHAPTER   I. 

"  Breaking  Up." — Grotesque  Farading  down  River. — Rum  and  Intemper- 
ance.— Religious  Rites  profaned. — River-driving  on  Temperance  I'riuci- 
ples. — The  first  Experiment. — A  spiritual  Song. 

Having  completed  our  winter's  work  in  hauling  logs,  another 
period  commences  in  the  chain  of  operations,  "  breaking  up," 
moving  down  river,  and  making  preparations  for  "river-driving." 

The  time  for  breaking  up  is  determined  by  various  circum- 
stances ;  sometimes  an  early  spring,  warm  rains,  and  thawing 
days  render  the  snow  roads  impassable  for  further  log  haiding. 
In  other  cases,  when  it  is  the  intention  to  take  the  teams  down 
river,  where  lakes  and  rivers  are  to  be  crossed  on  the  route,  it  is 
necessary  to  start  before  the  ice  becomes  too  weak  to  bear  up  the 
oxen.  Sometimes  scarcity  of  timber  renders  an  early  removal 
necessary,  while  in  those  instances  where  it  is  concluded  to  turn 
the  oxen  out  to  shift  for  themselves,  on  browse  and  meadow  grass, 
we  haul  as  long  as  it  can  be  done,  esteeming  every  log  hauled 
under  such  circumstances  clear  gain. 

Breaking  up  is  rather  a  joyful  occasion  than  otherwise,  though 
camp  life,  as  a  whole,  is  very  agreeable.  Change  is  something 
which  so  well  accords  with  the  demands  of  our  nature,  that  in 
most  cases,  when  it  occurs,  its  cflects  arc  most  exhilarating.  Un- 
der such  cironmstauccs,  after  three  or  four  months  spent  in 
the  wild  M'oods,  away  from  home,  friends,  and  society,  the  an- 
ticipation of  a  renewed  particijiation  in  the  relations  of  life,  in 
town  and  country,  creates  much  buoyancy  of  feeling.     All  is  good 


I 'I 

i: 


H 


r 


150 


RIVER    LIFE. 


t: 


111     ! 


•fti 


i 


'i 


nature  ;  every  thing  sccms  strangely  imbued  with  power  to  please, 
to  raise  a  joke,  or  excite  a  laugh. 

"Whatever  of  value  there  may  be  about  the  premises  not  nec- 
essary for  the  driving  operation,  is  loaded  upon  the  long  sled ; 
the  oxen  being  attached,  the  procession  moves  slowly  from  the 
scene  of  winter  exploits,  "homeward  bound,"  leaving,  however, 
a  portion  of  the  crew  to  make  the  necessary  preparations  for 
river-driving. 

After  several  days'  travel,  the  neigh .  ^rhood  of  home  is  reached ; 
but,  before  the  arrival  in  town,  some  little  preparations  are  made 
by  the  hands  for  a  triumphant  entree.  Accordingly,  colors  arc 
displayed  from  tall  poles  fastened  to  the  sled,  and  sometimes,  also, 
to  the  yoke  of  3  oxen,  made  of  handkerchiefs,  wdth  streaiuh'g 
pennants  floating  on  the  wind,  or  of  strips  of  red  flannel,  the  re- 
manisof  a  shirt  of  the  same  material,  while  the  hats  aio  decorated 
with  liberal  strips  of  ribbon  of  the  same  material,  and  waists 
sashed  with  red  comforters ;  their  beards  being  such  as  a  Moham- 
medan might  swear  by.  Thus  attired,  they  parade  the  town  with 
all  the  pomp  of  a  modern  caravan.  The  arrival  of  a  company  of 
these  teams,  ten  or  a  dozen  in  number,  sometimes  amounting  to 
forty  or  fifty  oxen,  and  nearly  as  many  men,  creates  no  little  in- 
terest in  those  thriving  towns  on  the  river  which  owe  their  exist- 
ence, growth,  and  prosperity  to  the  toils  and  hardships  of  these 
same  hardy  loggers.  Each  team  is  an  object  of  special  interest 
and  criticism;  and,  according  to  the  "condition"  of  flesh  they  are 
found  in,  so  is  the  praise  or  discredit  of  the  teamster  in  command, 
always  making  the  amount  of  labor  performed  and  the  quality 
of  the  keeping  furnished  an  accompanying  criterion  of  judgment. 
This  voluntary  review,  to  the  knight  of  the  goad,  is  fraught  with 
interest,  as  by  the  decisions  of  this  review  ho  either  maintains, 
advances,  or  recedes  from  his  former  standing  in  the  profession, 
and  thus  it  afibcts  not  only  his  pride,  but  also  his  purse,  as  a 
teamster  of  repute  commands  the  highest  rate  of  wages. 


i" 


)leaso. 


)t  ncc- 
f  sled ; 
)in  the 
wever, 
oiis  for 

aclicd ; 
c  iiiado 
[ors  arc 
cs,  also, 
:oaiiui'g 
the  re- 
3Corated 
I  waists 
oham- 
n  with 
pauy  of 
iiting  to 
ittle  iii- 
|ir  exist- 
lof  these 
interest 
[hey  are 
inland, 
quality 
[gmcnt. 
it  with 
lintains, 
Ifession, 
e,  as  a 


4 


RIVER    LIFE. 


151 


Si 


•Some  twenty  years  since,  these  arrivals,  and  also  those  of  the 
river-drivers,  were  eharaelerized  hy  a  free  iniliilj^cnce  in  spir- 
ituous liquors,  and  many  drunken  carousals.  Clro^-tihops  wcie 
numerous,  and  tlie  dominion  of  Kin<^  Alcohol  undis])uted  by  the 
masses.  Liquor  ilowed  as  freely  as  the  waters  wliich  bore  tiieir 
logs  to  the  mills.  Hogsheads  of  rum  were  drunk  or  wasted  in 
the  course  of  a  few  hours  on  some  occasions,  and  excessive  indul- 
gence was  the  almost  daily  practice  of  the  nuijority,  even  from 
the  time  of  their  arrival  in  the  sprinf^  until  the  commencement 
of  another  winter's  cam])ai«^n.  I  speak  now  more  particularly 
of  employees,  though  I  calculate,  as  a  Southerner  would  say,  that 
many  of  the  employers  in  tliose  days  had  experience  enough  to 
tell  good  West  India  from  New  EuL^land  rum. 

"In  1832,  in  a  population  not  exceedin<(  four  hundred  and 
iifty  or  live  hundred,  on  the  tSt.  Croix,  three  thousand  live  hund- 
red gallons  of  ardent  spirits  were  consumed."  A  distiniruished 
lumberman,  who.sc  opinion  is  above  quoted,  remra'ks  further,  "  So 
strong  was  the  conviction  that  men  could  not  work  in  the  water 
without  'spirits,'  that  I  had  great  difficulty  in  employinjif  the  first 
crew  of  men  to  drive  on  the  river  on  temperance  principles. 
"VMien  I  made  known  my  purpose  to  enq)loy  such  a  gang  of  men, 
the  answer  almost  invariably  was,  '  You  may  try,  but,  depend 
upon  it,  the  drive  will  never  come  down.'  But  old  men,  who 
had  been  spurred  on  to  exertion  for  thirty  years  by  ardent  spirits, 
were  forced  to  acknowledge,  when  they  came  down  river,  that 
tliey  had  never  succeeded  so  well  before  ;  and  learned,  at  that 
late  period,  tliat  the  cause  of  their  stilfjoints  and  prenuiture  old 
age  was  not  wholly  on  account  of  exposure  to  the  cold  and  work 
in  the  water,  but  the  result  of  strong  drink." 

It  would  be  difficult  to  jrive  an  exnirgerated  sketch  of  the 
drunken  practices  among  lonff^^ers  twenty-live  years  ago.  I  recol- 
lect that  matters  were  carried  so  far  at  Milltown,  that  the  log- 
gers would  arrest  passers-by,  take  them  by  force,  bring  them  into 


ili 


1  I,  I 

III 

il: 


'  t! 


i* 


«  I': 


1^ 


152 


RIVER    LIFE. 


i  if 


the  loll-housc  grog-shop,  and  baptize  them  by  poiiniig  a  quart  of 
rum  over  their  heads. 

Distinctions  ot*  grade  were  lost  sight  of,  and  the  office  of  deacon 
or  priest  constituted  no  exemption  "  pass"  against  the  ordeal, 
rather  the  rite  profaned.  This  process  of  ablution  was  practiced 
with  such  zeal  upon  their  own  craft  and  transient  passers-by,  tliat 
a  hogshead  of  rum  was  drawn  in  a  short  time,  running  in  brooks 
over  the  lloor.  The  afikir  was  conducted  amid  the  most  boister- 
ous and  immoderate  merriment — the  more  distinguished  the  can- 
didate, the  more  hearty  the  fun. 

But  a  change  has  come  over,  not  the  spirit  of  their  dreams,  but 
their  practices  and  estimate  of  such  excesses.  I  doubt  whether 
any  portion  of  society,  or  class  of  men  whose  intemperate  habits 
were  so  excessive,  and  whose  excuses,  at  least  for  a  moderate  use 
of  liquor,  were  so  reasonable,  can  be  found  where  the  principles 
of  total  abstinence  have  wrought  so  thorough  and  complete  a 
change.  Not  that  the  evil  is  wholly  eradicated,  for  many  still 
continue  its  use.  But  it  has  now  been  fully  demonstrated  that 
men  can  endure  the  chilling  hardships  of  river-driving  quite  as 
well,  and,  indeed,  far  better,  without  the  stimulus  of  ardent  spir- 
its, and  perform  more  and  better-directed  labor. 

At  the  time  alluded  to,  however,  more  prominence  was  given 
to  rum  as  a  necessary  part  of  the  supplies  than  to  almost  any 
other  article.  "  The  first  and  most  important  article,"  says  Mr. 
Todd,  of  St.  Stephen's,  N.  B.,  "  in  all  our  movements,  from  the 
stump  in  the  swamp  to  the  ship's  hold,  was  Hum/  Rum  I"  To 
show  how  truly  this  one  idea  ran  through  the  minds  of  the  log- 
gers, I  present  the  following  original  rum  song,  illustrating  tho 
"spirit  of  the  times,"  and  of  the  log  swamp  muse. 

"  'Tis  when  wo  do  go  into  the  woods, 

Drink  round,  brave  boys!  drink  round,  brave  boys! 
'Tis  when  we  do  go  into  the  woods, 
Jolly  brave  boys  are  we ; 


i 


RIVER    LIFE. 


153 


irt  of 

eacon 
rdeal, 
cticed 
J,  that 
brooks 
oister- 
.0  caii- 

ns,  but 
liclhor 
liabils 
ale  uso 
lunples 
[)lete  a 
py  still 
(I  that 
uitc  as 
it  spir- 

given 
t)st  any 
lys  Mr. 
1)111  tho 
I'"     To 

10  log- 
lig  tho 


i 


I 


% 


'Tis  vvluMi  wc  do  j^u  into  tho  woods, 
Wu  look  for  timber,  and  tliiit  which  is  good, 
Ilcigh  ho!  (hink  round,  bravo  boys, 
And  jolly  bravo  boya  aro  wo. 

Now  wliou  the  choppers  begin  to  chop, 

Drink  round,  &.C., 
Wlieu  tlio  choppers  begin  to  chop, 

Jolly  bravo  boys,  &c. ; 
And  when  tho  choppers  begin  to  chop, 
They  take  llie  sound  and  leave  the  rot, 
Heigh  ho!  drink  round,  tfec, 
And  jolly  bravo  boys,  &c. 

And  when  tho  swampers  begin  to  jlear, 

Drink  roiuid,  &c., 
And  when  the  swampers  begin  to  clear, 

Jolly  i)ravo  boys,  vS:,c. ; 
And  when  tho  swampers  begin  to  clear, 
They  show  the  teamster  where  to  steer, 
Heigh  ho  !  drink  round,  &c., 
And  jolly  bravo  boys,  &c. 

And  when  wo  get  them  on  to  tho  slod, 

Drink  round,  »fcc.. 
And  when  we  get  them  on  to  the  sled, 

Jolly  bravo  boys,  &;c. ; 
And  when  wo  get  them  on  to  the  s1«hI, 
*  Haw  !  back.  Bright!'  it  goes  ahead, 
Heigh  ho!  drink  round,  &c., 
And  jolly  brave  boys,  &c. 

Then,  when  wc  get  them  on  to  the  stream, 

Drink  round,  Sec, 
Then,  whon  wo  get  them  on  to  the  stream. 

Jolly  brave  boys,  Sec. ; 
So,  when  we  got  tht;m  on  to  tho  stream. 
We'll  knock  out  the  lid  and  roll  them  in. 
Heigh  ho!  drink  round,  &ic.. 
Jolly  bruvu  boys,  &c. 

G2 


Mh 


§. 


i 


\ 


Sic 


I  ' 


m 


I'     I 


I' ' 

t  ' 


154 


niVER    LIFE. 


And  when  wu  get  thum  duwu  to  thu  buum, 

Drink  round,  &c., 
And  when  wo  get  them  down  to  tho  boom, 

Jolly  uruvo  boys,  «S&c. ; 
And  when  wo  got  thorn  down  to  tho  boom, 
We'll  call  at  tho  tavern  for  brandy  and  rum, 
Hoigh  ho !  drink  round,  &c., 
Jolly  brave  boys,  &c. 

So  when  we  get  them  down  to  tho  mill, 

'Tis  drink  round,  &c., 
So  when  wo  get  them  down  to  the  mill. 

Jolly  brave  boys,  &.C.; 
And  when  we  get  llieni  down  to  tho  mill, 
We'll  cull  fur  tho  liijiior  and  driuk  our  fill, 
Ileigh  ho  !  drink,  &,c., 
Jolly  bravo  boys,  &c. 

Tho  merchant  ho  takes  us  by  tho  hand, 

Drink  round,  bravo  boys !  drink  round,  bravo  boys! 
Tho  merchant  he  takes  us  by  tho  hand, 

And  ^ jolly  brave  hoys  are  we;' 
Tho  merchant  ho  takes  us  by  the  hand. 
Saying,  '  Sirs,  I  have  goods  at  your  conunand ; 
But  heigh  ho  !  drink  round,  brave  boys, 
The  money  will  foot  up  a  *  spree.'  " 


I  i 


;  I 


1' 


Ir 


niVER   LIFE. 


155 


,  ■'■iti 


n 


i 


CHAPTER  II. 

RIVER-DRIVING. 

Log-landing. — Laborious  Exposure. — Damming  Streams. — Exciting  Sconos. 
—  Log-riding.  —  Fun.  —  Breaking  a  Dry-landing.  —  A  sudden  Death.— 
Thrilling  Scenes  on  the  "  Nesourdnehunk." — Lake-driving. — Steam  Tow- 
boat. — Ueniarks  on  Lake  Navigation. — Driving  tho  main  Uiver. — Uniuu 


•  ^1 


»)!' Crews. 


-Substantial  Jokes. — Log  Marks. — Dangers  of  River-driving. - 


Sad  Feelings  over  the  Grave  of  a  River-driver. — Singular  Substitute  for  a 
ColHu. — Burial  of  a  Rivei'-driver. — A  Log  Jam. — Great  E.xcitement. — A 
Boat  swamped. — A  Man  drowned. — Narrow  Escape. — Mode  of  Living  on 
the  River. — Wangun. — Antidote  for  Asthma. — Tho  Wanguu  swami)ed. — 
An  avvfid  Struggle. — Tho  miraculous  Escape. — Driving  among  the  Islands. 
— Amusing  E.\ertions  at  identifying. — Consummation  of  Driving. — Tho 
Claims  of  lumbering  Business  for  greater  rromiueuca. — The  Boom. 

The  business  of  river-driving  is  not  so  agreeable  as  other  de- 
partments of  labor  in  the  lumbering  operations,  though  equally 
important,  and  also,  in  many  respects,  intensely  interesting.  Tho 
hands  left  at  the  camps  at  the  time  the  team  breaks  up,  to  mako 
the  necessary  instruments  for  river-driving,  are  soon  joined  with 
the  addition  of  such  forces  as  are  requisite  for  an  expeditious  drive. 
As  in  most  labor  performed  there  is  a  directing  and  responsible 
head,  so  is  it  in  river-driving ;  here,  too,  we  have  our  "  boss." 

As  early  as  April,  and  sometimes  the  last  of  March,  the  high 
ascending  sun  begins  to  melt  the  snow  on  the  south  of  mountain 
and  hill  sides,  flowing  intervales  and  lowlands,  forming  consid- 
erable rivers,  where  at  other  seasons  of  the  year  the  insignificant 
little  brook  wound  its  stealthy  course  among  the  alders,  hardly 
of  a  capacity  to  float  the  stall"  of  a  traveler  ;  but,  at  the  period 
referred  to,  by  a  little  previous  labor  in  cutting  away  the  bushes 
and  rcinoviiig  sumo  of  tho  stones  in  ila  channel,  it  is  made  capa- 


i  I 


\  111 

I 


n 


m 


>  i 


■1 

! 


150 


RIVER   LIFE. 


))lo  of  ll()iitiii<^  liirj^a'  lt)f,^s,  with  the  occui^iouul  assist iiiico  oi'  u 
(lam  1()  flow  slioal  jjhiccy. 

In  brook-driving'  it  is  uct'.'ssary  to  hejiln  early,  In  order  to  j^et 
the  lojTs  into  the  more  ample  cnrrent  oi'  the  main  river  while  the 
freshet  is  yet  np.  Jn  some  cases,  tliereforc,  as  a  necessary  step, 
tlie  ice  in  the  channel  of  the  brook  is  cut  out,  opening  a  passa<ro 
of  sulhrient  width  to  allow  three  or  four  lo<^s  to  lloat  side  by  side. 
In  forminj^  a  landing  on  the  margin  of  such  streams,  the  trees 
and  bushes  arc  cut  and  cleared  out  of  the  way  for  several  rods 
hack,  and  a  considerable  distance  up  and  doM'U,  according  to  the 
niimljer  of  logs  to  be  hauled  into  it.  To  facilitate  the  sawing  of 
the  logs  into  snilable  lengths  for  driving,  as  well  as  more  espe- 
cially to  form  bed-pieces  upon  which  to  roll  them  into  the  brook 
in  the  spring,  a  great  many  skids  are  cut  and  laid  parallel  with 
each  other,  running  at  right  angles  to  the  margin  of  the  stream. 
On  these  landings,  in  the  spring,  the  water  is  from  one  to  two 
feet  deep,  the  cause  of  which  is  sometimes  accounted  for  from  the 
fact  that  in  the  autumn  the  water  is  quite  low,  and  the  ice,  in 
forming,  is  attached  to  the  grass  and  hushes,  which  prevent  it 
from  rising  ;  the  result  is,  that  the  whole  is  overllowed  in  the 
spring.  Into  the  channel  thus  cut  the  logs  arc  rolled,  as  fast  as 
it  can  be  cleared,  by  shoving  those  already  in  down  stream,  until 
the  hrook,  for  a  mile  or  more,  is  filled  with  new  and  beautiful  logs. 

No  part  of  the  driving  business  is  so  trying  to  the  constitution, 
perhaps,  as  clearing  such  a  landing.  It  often  occupies  a  week, 
during  which  all  hands  are  in  the  water,  in  depth  from  the  ankle 
to  the  hips,  exerting  themselves  to  the  utmost,  lifting  with  heavy 
]n'ies,  hand-spikes,  and  cant-dogs,  to  roll  these  massive  sticks  into 
the  brook  channel.  The  water  at  this  season  is  extremely  chilly, 
so  much  so  that  a  few  moments'  exposure  deprives  the  feet  and 
legs  of  nearly  all  feeling,  and  the  individual  of  power  to  move 
them,  so  that  it  often  becomes  necessary  to  assist  each  other  to 
climb  upon  a  log,  where  a  process  of  thumping,  rubbing,  and 


RIVRR    LIFE. 


ir)7 


I 


sliinijtiiiy"  rostores  tlio  cinnilalion  and  iiatiirul  power  ol"  iiiotioii. 
This  eirc'ctod,  lliey  jump  in  and  at  it  a^aiiii. 

WlicMi  the  water  la  too  sliallow  on  any  part  of  a  stroani  to  (loat 
the  lof?s,  dams  arc  constructed  to  (low  tlie  water  l)a(;k,  with  jjales 
whieli  can  bo  opened  and  shut  at  jileasure,  and  either  tlirou^Mi 
the  apertures  of  the  pates  or  sluice-ways  made  li>r  the  pMr))osc, 
the  lops  arc  run.  Tiiis  dam  answers  the  same  ])urii()so  in  rais- 
ing the  M'ater  to  float  the  loirs  below  as  above,  on  tlio  brook, 
yimttinp  the  pates,  a  larpe  pond  oi'  water  is  soon  aceumidaled  ; 
then  hoiatinp  them,  out  leaps  the  hissinp  element,  Ibaminp  and 
dasiiinp  onward  like  a  tiper  leapinp  upon  his  ])rey.  Away  the 
lops  scamper,  remindinp  one  of  a  Jlock  of  friphtened  siieep  llee- 
inp  before  the  wolf.  tSomc  lops  are  so  cumbersome  that  they  re- 
main unmoved,  even  with  this  artificial  accumulation  of  water. 
In  such  cases,  cmbracinp  the  moment  when  the  water  is  at  its 
hiphest  pitch,  in  we  leap,  and,  thrustinp  our  band-spikes  beneath 
them,  bow  our  shoulders  to  the  instrument,  often  stoopinp  so  low 
as  to  kiss  the  curlinp  ripples  as  they  dance  by.  In  this  way,  some- 
times by  a  f'jw  inches  at  a  time,  and  sometimes  by  the  rod,  we 
iirpe  them  over  difficult  places  ;  while,  in  connection  with  tiio 
annoyance  of  very  cold  water,  broken  frapments  of  ice  minple  in 
the  melee,  imposinp  sundry  thumps  and  bruises  upon  the  be- 
numbed limbs  of  the  cndurinp  river-driver. 

In  some  places,  on  low,  swampy  land,  a  body  of  water  accu- 
midatcs  several  rods  wide,  and  from  three  to  ten  feet  deep.  Here 
the  lops,  as  if  to  play  "  hide  and  seek,"  run  in  amonp  the  bushes, 
pivinp  infinitely  more  trouble  than  amusement.  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances, it  becomes  nccessaiy  for  the  men  to  keep  on  the  lops 
most  of  the  time  ;  and  as  lops  roll  very  easily  in  the  water,  and 
are  often  extremely  slippery,  it  requires  the  balancinp  skill  of  a 
wire-dancer  to  keep  on  them ;  and  often  some  luckless  wipht, 
whether  he  will  or  no,  plunpcs  over  head  and  ears  into  the  flood 
as  he  is  whirled  from  the  back  of  some  ticklish  log ;  and,  how- 


m 
Hi 


158 


RIVER    LIFE. 


i 


W 


II  : 


(jvor  uriwclcomo  to  hirnst'ir,  no  soonor  is  his  head  above  water 
than  he  hears  the  wild  woods  eeho  the  jeering  laugh  ol"  his  more 
fortunate  comrades. 

In  other  places,  where  banks  arc  too  ahnipt  to  allow  the  team 
to  pass  on  to  the  river,  the  logs  are  unloaded  and  rolled  down 
in  one  general  mass  ;  the  first  few  fall  upon  the  ice,  others  roll- 
ing against  them  ;  the  main  body  liill  back  and  accumulate  in 
great  numbers.  To  break  or  clear  such  a  landing  is  often  very 
dangerous.  While  at  work  pi7iug  on  the  foremost,  largo  masses 
start  suddenly,  uud  often  the  only  way  of  escape  is  to  spring  in 
advance  of  the  rushing  pile  and  plunge  the  river.  "  1  saw  ono 
poor  fellow,"  said  a  h)ggcr,  "hurled  into  eternity  very  suddenly 
while  at  work  on  ono  of  those  jams.  Co-operating  with  others 
in  an  attempt  to  roll  a  stick  from  the  pile,  the  main  lever  gave 
way,  and  the  stick  slipped  back.  This  person  used  a  single 
hand-spike,  holding  up  the  upper  end  and  sallying  back.  When, 
the  log  rolled  back  it  caused  the  hand-spike  to  spring  forward, 
and,  before  he  had  time  to  relinquish  his  grasp,  it  ilung  him  head- 
long forward,  like  an  arrow  from  the  hunter's  bow,  down  the 
embankment  into  the  water  ;  when  recovered,  he  was  dead.  It 
was  supposed  that  some  internal  injury  was  inflicted  by  the  sud- 
den ejectment,  which  caused  him  to  sullbcatc  more  readily  in  the 
water.  Rarely  could  the  man  be  found  his  e(pial  in  physical  en- 
ergy ;  but  strength  opposes  no  barrier  to  death." 

Logs  are  now  driven  down  streams  whose  navigation  for  such 
purposes  was  formerly  regarded  as  impracticable  —  some  from 
their  diminutive  size,  and  others  from  their  wild,  craggy  chan- 
nel. There  is  a  stream  of  the  latter  description,  called  '^Ne- 
sourdnchtmk,^*  which  disembogues  into  the  Penobscot  on  the 
southwest  side  of  Mount  Ktaadn,  whose  foaming  waters  leap 
from  crag  to  crag,  or  roll  in  one  plunging  sheet  down  perpendic- 
ular ledges  between  two  mountains.  On  one  section  of  this 
Btieam,  said  to  bo  about  half  a  mile  in  length,  there  is  a  fall 


i 


RIVER    LIPIi. 


151) 


I  such 
from 
lliau- 

the 

[leap 

idic- 

Ithis 

laU 


ol'  thruo  hundrud  I'cut.  Iii  Bomu  places  it  falls  twcnty-livo  feet 
perpendicularly.  Down  this  wild  pass  logs  are  run,  rolling,  dash- 
ing, and  plunging,  end  over  end,  making  the  astonished  lurcHt 
echo  with  their  rebounding  concussion. 

It  would  be  a  match  for  "Dame  Nature"  to  locate  a  handsomo 
Pine-tree  beyond  the  grasp  of  the  logmen.  Where  the  Eastern 
Imnler  jjursues  the  mountain  goat,  the  logger  would  pursue  the 
stalely  Pine.  Wo  have  seen  them  in  the  deep  ravine,  on  the  ab- 
rupt hi  11- top,  and  far  up  the  rugged  mountain  side,  or  j)eeriug 
ilown  from  some  lofty  cliU'  upon  the  insignificant  animal  at  its 
liaso  who  is  contemplating  its  sacrifice  ;  a  few  minutes,  and  the 
crash  of  its  giddy  plunge  is  heard,  "  and  swells  along  the  echoing 
crag,"  causing  the  earth  to  tremble  under  the  stroke  of  its  mass- 
ive trunk  ;  and  if  it  does  not  break  in  pieces,  as  is  sometimes  the 
case,  in  falling,  it  will  in  time  find  its  way  to  the  slip  of  the  saw- 
mill. The  resolution,  daring,  skill,  and  j)!iysical  force  of  the  men 
engaged  in  this  business  can  find  no  rival,  to  say  the  least,  in 
any  body  or  class  of  men  whatever. 

In  many  cases  logs  are  hauled  on  to  the  ice  of  the  lakes,  streams, 
aud  rivers,  instead  of  being  left  ui)on  the  banks  or  landing-places. 
When  hauled  on  to  the  lakes,  they  are  laiil  together  as  compact- 
ly as  possible,  and  inclosed  in  a  •'  boom,"  which  is  made  by  fast- 
ening the  ends  of  the  trunks  of  long  trees,  so  as  to  prevent  them 
liom  scattering  over  the  lake  on  the  breaking  up  of  the  ice.  A 
strong  bulk-head  or  raft  is  constructed  of  the  logs,  with  a  cap- 
stan or  windlass  for  the  purpose  of  warping  the  whole  forward 
in  a  calm,  or  when  the  wind  is  ahead.  In  this  operation,  two 
or  three  men  take  an  anchor  into  the  boat,  to  which,  of  course, 
the  warp  is  attached,  when  tliey  row  out  to  the  extent  of  the 
rope,  let  go  the  anchor,  and  haul  up  by  working  the  windlass. 
Sometimes  a  tempest  breaks  up  the  boom,  and  the  logs  are  scat- 
tered, which  gives  much  trouble,  and  not  unfrcquently  causes  a 
delay  of  one  year  before  they  roach  the  mills. 


I 


It 


I 


^ 


'4. 


m 


H^ 


160 


RIVER    LIFE. 


On  Moosclicad  Lake,  at  the  head  of  the  Kennehcck,  a  steam  tow- 
boat  has  recently  been  built,  which  has  proved  very  serviceable 
to  lumbermen  in  towing  rafts  to  the  outlet.  Probably  the  time 
will  come  when  the  business  of  other  large  lakes  in  Maine  will 
require  the  services  of  similar  boats.  Had  the  same  degree  of 
knowledge  and  interest  existed  twenty  years  ago  in  regard  to  the 
application  of  steam  to  the  various  purposes  of  life  that  is  now 
manifested,  the  crystal  waters  of  the  beautiful  Grand  Lake,  at 
the  head  of  the  iSt.  Croix,  would  have  been  plowed  by  the  prow 
of  some  little  steamer  long  ago.  But  now  one  great  leading  mo- 
tive lor  such  an  undertaking  is  irrecoverably  past ;  the  VVhito 
Pines  have  been  mowed  by  the  woodmens'  ax  ;  they  have  dis- 
appeared forever,  at  least  in  any  considerable  quantity.  iStill, 
other  interests  may  arise  and  create  a  demand  sufficiently  prom- 
ising, in  a  remunerative  point  of  view,  to  induce  an  individual, 
or  joint  investment,  for  the  construction  of  such  a  boat  as  may 
be  needed.  The  Grand  Lake  is  some  twenty-five  miles  in  length 
from  north  to  south,  and  from  six  to  eight  miles  wide  at  its  great- 
est breadth.  An  imaginary  line,  passing  lengthwise,  constitutes 
the  boundary  between  Maine  and  New  Brunswick,  the  eastern 
shore  being  within  the  limits  of  her  majesty's  dominions.  {Set- 
tlements to  a  large  extent  have  already  been  made  on  the  Amer- 
ican side  ;  and  when,  in  the  course  of  time,  the  other  side  shall 
spring  into  importance,  some  little  cummerce  may  be  opened  be- 
tween the  two  ports,  a  custom-house  be  established,  &c.,  so  that 
the  places  here  sketched  may  constitute  a  miniature  likeness  of 
the  two  countries,  with  the  broad  Atlantic  between  them.  How- 
ever, in  reference  to  the  realization  of  what  is  herrj  said  of  steam- 
boats and  commerce,  we  will  say  with  the  Dutchman,  when  he 
spoke  prospectively  of  other  matters,  ^^  Veil ^  veil,  ve  shall  see  vat 
ve  shall  sceT^ 

From  lakes  and  tributary  streams,  the  various  parcels  of  logs 
cut  and  drove  by  dilicrcnt  companies  issue  foith,  and  form  one 


. 


m 


riveh  life. 


101 


hall 
be- 
ll at 

of 
ow- 
im- 

he 
\vat 

logs 
mo 


oriuul  drive  on  llic  iiiiiiii  river,  wliere  the  separate  crews  iiiiile, 
uiul  make  coniiiiou  cause  in  the  driviiij^  operation.  In  otlier  in- 
stances one  drive  may  ])recedo  another,  makiiiir  the  river  for 
miles  one  pfcneral  scene  ol'  lo^rs  and  river-drivers.  Sometimes  the 
foremost  lo«rs  of  one  drive,  unohstriicted,  pass  on  and  mingle  with 
what  is  called  the  "  tail  end"  of  the  preceding  drive.  Under 
such  circumstances,  if  there  be  any  grudge  to  gratify  by  the  fore- 
most crew,  or  a  substantial  joke  to  bo  put,  such  truant  logs  are  run 
aground,  into  creeks,  in  meadow  land,  among  the  bushes,  and  on 
the  shore.  A  crew  of  thirty  or  forty  men  will  take  a  log  be- 
longing to  another  crow  and  run  it  up  high  and  dry  on  to  the 
land,  stand  it  on  end,  prop  it  up,  and  leave  it  in  that  position. 
The  rear  crew,  on  coming  up,  stimulated  by  the  prank,  knock 
away  the  props,  and  throw  it  down  ;  a  score  of  pikes  pierce  its 
sides,  when  they  sliove  it  upon  the  run  perlia})S  twenty  rods  to 
the  river  again,  amid  the  most  vociferous  hurrahs  and  whoo])ing, 
enough  to  give  one  quite  an  idea  of  the  Indian  war-whoop. 
K^ome,  perha})S,  aaIio  may  trace  these  lines  may  be  curious  to 
know  how  the  logs  of  one  party  can  be  distinguished  from  those 
of  another.  The  answer  is,  precisely  as  one  farmer  distinguishes 
his  sheep  from  those  of  his  neighbor  by  the  particular  mark  they 
bear,  each  diflering  in  some  particular  from  every  other.  A  rep- 
resentation of  these  marks,  which  arc  cut  in  the  side  of  tlie  log, 
would  remind  one  of  the  letters  or  cliaracters  of  the  Chinese. 

No  employment  that  I  am  aware  of  threatens  the  life  and 
health  more  than  river-driving.  Many  a  poor  fellow  finds  his  last 
resting-place  on  the  bank  of  some  wild  stream,  in  whose  stilling 
his  last  strujrjrle  for  life  was  spent :  wliere  the  wild  wood 


'V 


skirts  its  margin — where,  too,  the  lonely  owl  hoots  his  midnight 
rorpiiem.  I  have  visited  many  spots  that  Avere,  from  facts  called 
U[)  l)y  retros])ection,  lonely  and  painfully  silent,  but  have  never 
been  so  spell-bound,  so  extremely  oppressed  with  a  feeling  of  sad- 
ness, as  while  standing  over  tiie  little  mound  which  marked  the 


1  •  tt 


:^ 


i      I' 


i 


V' 


I<l  I 


i 


'» 


102 


RIVER    LIFE. 


resting-place  of  a  river-driver  on  the  banks  of  a  lonely  stream, 
far  away  from  the  hearth  of  his  childhood  and  the  permanent 
abodes  of  civilization.  The  silent  ripple  of  the  now  quiet  stream 
(for  the  spring  floods  were  past),  the  sighing  of  the  winds  among 
the  branches  of  trees  which  waved  in  silence  over  the  uncon- 
scious sleeper,  rendered  the  position  too  painful  for  one  predis- 
posed to  melancholy.  When  in  those  wild  regions  we  have  the 
misfortune  to  lose  one  of  our  number,  after  the  body  is  recovered, 
we  place  it  in  a  coffin  composed  of  two  empty  flour  barrels.  One 
is  passed  over  the  head  and  shoulders,  the  other  receives  the 
lower  extremities,  when  the  two  are  brought  together  and  fast- 
ened, his  grave-clothes  generally  being  some  of  his  common  wear- 
ing apparel.  Seldom,  if  ever,  does  the  voice  of  prayer  rise  over 
their  bier  under  these  circumstances ;  in  silence  the  corpse  is 
committed  to  its  rude  burial,  while  now  and  then  a  half-sup- 
pressed sigh  is  heard,  and  the  unbidden  tears  steal  down  the  smi- 
burned  cheeks  of  his  manly  associates.  Events  of  this  kind  gen- 
erally come  suddenly,  though,  when  in  dangerous  circumstances, 
are  often  anticipated.  After  such  an  occurrence,  an  air  of  sobri- 
ety pervades  the  company  ;  jokes  are  dispensed  with,  the  voice  of 
song  is  hushed,  and  for  several  days  the  deportment  of  the  men. 
is  characterized  with  a  degree  of  cautiousness  unusual,  except 
when  reminded  by  some  such  impressive  example  of  the  frailty 
and  uncertainty  of  human  life.  But  with  most  the  impression 
soon  wears  off,  and  their  accustomed  cheerfulness  is  regained  ; 
their  exertions  marked  with  the  same  daring  as  before  the  acci- 
dent, or  as  though  a  life  had  never  been  lost  in  the  business. 
Lower  down  the  river,  in  the  vicinity  of  new  settlements,  the 
usual  ceremonies  on  funeral  occasions  are  practiced  when  an 
itinerant  clergyman  chances  to  pass  that  way.  The  following 
notice  of  such  an  occurrence  was  cut  from  the  Bangor  Courier  : 

"  Passing  into  the  town  of  Passadumkeag  late  one  eveidng 
during  the  past  summer,  a  crowd  had  gathered  in  the  street.     It 


'fT 


RIVER    LIFE. 


103 


proved  to  be  the  funeral  of  a  river-driver.  His  body  had  been 
taken  from  the  water  and  shrouded  in  the  open  air.  Many  of 
the  sympathetic  villagers  were  there ;  and  a  pious  elder,  who 
chanced  that  way,  breathed  a  prayer  over  his  remains  before  they 
were  borne  to  their  final  place  of  rest. 


ler : 
[ning 
It 


BURIAL  OF  A  RIVER-DRIVER. 

'  '^hey  drew  him  from  his  watery  bed, 

And  shroudfd  him  wllh  kindly  caro ; 
At  ev'u  his  humble  bier  was  sjjread, 

And  o'er  it  rose  the  voice  of  pray'r; 
IJis  only  pall  night's  sahle  damp, 
The  stars  of  heav'n  his  funeral  lamp. 

They  bore  away  that  youthful  form, 

And  laid  it  in  the  humid  gra\e, 
That  yestermtjrn  with  life  was  warm, 

A]id  launeh'd  upon  the  a  uicing  wavo 
With  jocund  voice,  and  h(  ves  as  bright 
As  stirr'd  beneath  that  morning's  Ught. 

His  oar  with  nci'vons  arm  he  phed, 

Nor  shrank  from  dangers  gath'ring  fast, 

Struggling  against  that  treacherous  tide, 
IJis  stout  heart  braves  it  to  the  last; 

Till,  spent  his  strength,  and  dim  his  oyo, 

His  oar  and  skiff  float  idly  by. 

Far  distant  lies  the  home  he  left, 

And  :  ido  by  side  an  aged  pair, 
Unconscious  of  their  hopes  bereft. 

Breathe  now  his  cherish'd  name  in  pray'r; 
Their  eyes  with  watchfulness  grow  dim: 
Oh  !  vainly  will  they  wait  for  him ! 

A  fair  young  maid,  with  ix-iisive  face, 
Looks  forth  upon  the  siltMit  night, 

Ilor  heart  sweet  memories  doth  trace, 
Till  future  years  glow  in  their  light. 


I 


'k 


)■ 


'I 


i 


IM 


1 1 


1G4 


RIVKR    LIFE. 


I 


Aliis!  for  lilb's  all  cliaii^eful  .scene, 
How  soon  must  pcuish  tliiit  loud  dri'am 
For  liiin  ou  vvliom  ]wv  llioiiu'lils  dolli  |)oro; 
IJis  hopes  and  sclicuies  ul"  curlli  aro  o'er!" 

Ijrook-drlves  arc,  as  lias  before  been  remarked,  usually  distinct 
parcels  ollugs  belongin*^  to  au  individual  or  company.  These  va- 
rious parcels  aio  olten  thrown  together  in  one  mass  on  the  am})lc 
current  of  the  main  river,  to  the  number  of  twelve  or  thirteen 
thousand  pieces  ;  in  which  case  the  dillerent  crews  unite  and 
make  connnon  cause.  As  the  water  rises  suddenly,  and  falls  as 
raj)idly  on  the  river,  by  which,  in  the  first  instance,  many  logs 
run  uj)on  intervale  and  meadow  land,  or  upon  high  rocks  and  ledg- 
es, and,  in  the  (.)lher  case,  from  the  ra^l^i  decline  of  water,  there 
is  necessarily  much  activity  called  for  to  clear  such  logs  from  t lie 
position  in  which  they  are  placed,  else  they  must  be  left  behind, 
or  require  great  physical  exertion  to  disengage  and  bring  them 
on  with  the  rest.  A  steady  current  or  jjitch  of  water  is  prefer- 
able to  one  either  rising  or  diminishing,  as,  when  risin":  rapid- 
ly, the  water  at  the  middle  of  the  river  is  considerably  higher 
than  at  the  shores — so  much  so  as  to  be  distinctly  perceived  by 
the  eye  of  a  spectator  on  the  banks,  presenting  au  appearance 
like  a  turni)ike  road.  The  lumber,  therefore,  is  always  sure  to 
incline  from  the  center  of  the  channel  toward  either  shore.  On 
the  lulls,  and  the  more  dillicult  iwrtions  of  the  river,  sometiuRiS 
immense  jams  Ibrm.  In  the  connnenccment,  some  unlucky  log 
.swings  across  the  narrow  chasm,  striking  some  protruding  ])or- 
tions  of  the  ledge,  and  stojjs  last  ;  others  come  on,  and,  meeting 
this  obstruction,  stick  fast  also,  until  thousands  ui)on  thousands 
form  one  dense  breast-work,  against  and  through  which  a  boiling, 
leaping  river  rushes  wilh  terrible  force.  "Who  that  is  unaccus- 
tomed to  such  scenes,  ou  viewing  that  pile  of  massive  logs,  now 
densely  packed,  cross-piled,  and  interwoven  in  every  conceivable 
position  in  a  deep  chasm  with  overhanging  cliil's,  with  a  mighty 


RIVER    LIFE. 


105 


^■t 


linos 

l(.<r 

|])or- 
iuds 

MIS- 
[0\V 

ble 
ity 


column  of  rusliin*:^  Avatcr,  which,  hkc  the  heavy  pressure  upon 
au  arch,  coulines  the  whole  more  closely,  would  decide  otherwise 
than  that  the  mass  must  lay  iu  its  prehcut  position,  either  to  de- 
cay or  be  moved  by  some  extraordinary  convulsion.  Tens  of 
thousands  of  dollars'  worth  lay  in  this  wild  and  unpromisiufr  po- 
sition. The  property  involved,  tojrethcr  with  the  exj)loits  of  dar- 
hig  and  feats  of  skill  to  be  performed  in  breaking  that  "jam," 
invest  the  whole  with  a  degree  of  interest  not  counnon  to  the  or- 
dinaiy  pursuits  of  life,  and  but  little  realized  by  many  who  arc 
even  familiar  with  the  terms  lumber  and  river-driving.  In  some 
cases  many  obstructing  logs  arc  to  be  removed  singly.  Days  and 
weeks  sometimes  are  thus  expended  before  the  channel  is  cleared. 
In  other  cases  a  single  point  only  is  to  be  touched,  and  the  whole 
jam  is  in  motion.  To  hit  upon  the  most  vulnerable  point  is  the 
first  object ;  the  best  means  of  eflectiug  it  next  claims  attention  ; 
then  the  consummation  brings  into  requisition  all  the  physical 
force,  activity,  and  courage  of  the  men,  more  especially  those  en- 
gaged at  the  dangerous  points. 

From  the  neighboring  precipice,  overhanging  the  scene  of  op- 
eration, a  man  is  suspended  by  a  rope  round  his  body,  and  low- 


w 


1G6 


RIVER    LIFE. 


eretl  near  to  the  spot  ■where  a  breach  is  to  be  made,  which  is  al- 
ways selected  at  the  lower  edj^e  ol"  the  jam.  The  point  may  bo 
treacherous,  and  yield  to  a  feeble  touch,  or  it  may  require  iimch 
strength  to  move  it.  In  the  latter  case,  the  operator  fastens  a 
long  rope  to  a  log,  the  end  of  which  is  taken  down  stream  by  a 
portion  of  the  crew,  who  are  to  give  a  long  pull  and  strong  pull 
when  all  is  ready.  He  then  commences  prying  while  they  arc 
pulling.  If  the  jam  starts,  or  any  part  of  it,  or  if  there  be  even 
an  indication  of  its  starting,  he  is  drawn  suddenly  up  by  those 
stationed  above  ;  and,  in  their  excitement  and  apprehensions  for 
his  safety,  this  is  frequently  done  with  such  haste  as  to  sulyect 
him  to  bruises  and  scratches  upon  the  sharp-pointed  ledges  or 
bushes  in  the  way.  It  may  be  thought  best  to  cut  oiT  the  key- 
log,  or  that  which  appears  to  be  the  principal  barrier.  Accord- 
ingly, he  is  let  down  on  to  the  jam,  and  as  the  place  to  be  op- 
erated upon  may  in  some  cases  be  a  little  removed  from  the  shore, 
he  either  walks  to  the  place  with  the  rope  attached  to  his  body, 
or,  untying  ii;,  leaves  it  where  he  can  readily  grasp  it  in  time  to 
be  drawn  from  his  perilous  position.  Often,  where  the  pressure 
is  direct,  a  few  blows  only  are  given  with  the  ax,  when  the  log 
snaps  in  an  instant  with  a  loud  report,  followed  suddenly  by  the 
violent  motion  of  the  "jam;"  and,  ere  our  bold  river-driver  is 
jerked  half  way  to  the  top  of  the  cliff,  scores  of  logs,  in  wildest 
confusion,  rush  beneath  his  feet,  while  he  yet  dangles  in  air, 
above  the  rushing,  tumbling  mass.  If  that  rope,  on  which  life 
and  hope  hang  thus  suspended,  should  part,  worn  by  the  sharp 
point  of  some  jutting  rock,  death,  certain  and  quick,  would  be  in- 
evitable. 

The  deafening  noise  when  such  a  jam  breaks,  produced  by 
the  concussion  of  moving  logs  whirled  about  like  mere  straws, 
the  crash  and  breaking  of  some  of  the  largest,  which  part  ap- 
parently as  easily  as  a  reed  is  severed,  together  with  the  roar 
of  waters,  may  be  heard  for  miles  ;  and  nothing  can  exceed  tho 


i 


! 


■I 


RIVER    LIFE. 


107 


log 
the 


air, 
life 
larp 


by 
ws, 
|ap- 
)ar 
tho 


enthusiasm  of  the  river-drivers  on  such  occasions,  jumping,  liur- 
raing,  and  yelling  with  joyous  excitement. 

Such  phices  and  scenes  as  arc  thus  sketelied  may  he  found  and 
witnessed  on  most  rivers  where  himher  is  (h'iven.  Referring  to 
an  item  of  experience  on  a  drive  down  the  Matlawamkeag,  says 
a  h)gger,  "  Our  drive  consisted  of  ahout  thirteen  thcmsand  pieces, 
witii  a  crew  of  thirty-two  men,  all  vigorous  and  in  the  prime  of 
life.  Out  of  such  a  number,  exposed  as  we  were  to  the  perils 
attendant  upon  the  business,  it  was  a  question  which  we  some- 
times inwardly  pondered,  Who  of  our  party  may  conclude  the 
scenes  of  mortal  life  on  this  drive  ? 

"We  commenced  about  the  2'Jth  of  Mar(di  to  drive,  while  snow, 
and  ice,  and  cold  weather  were  yet  in  the  ascendant.  The  logs 
were  cleared  from  the  lake  and  stream  of  Baskahegan  in  fiity 
days,  which  brought  us  into  the  Mattawamkeag.  Twelve  miles 
down  this  river,  below  the  junction  of  Baskahegan,  we  came  to 
yiugundy  Falls.  There  the  water  passes  through  a  gorge  about 
fifty  feet  wide,  with  a  ledge  on  cither  side,  making  a  tremendous 
})lunge,  and  in  immediate  proximity  a  very  large  rock  stands  a 
little  detached  from  its  ledgy  banks.  There  the  whole  body  of 
our  logs  formed  an  immense  jam,  and  such  a  mass  of  confusion 
ap  then  presented  itself  beggars  description.  Logs  of  every  size 
were  interwoven  and  tangled,  together  like  heaps  of  straw  in 
'  winnow,'  while  the  water  rushed  through  and  over  them  with 
a  power  which  seemed  equal  to  the  upturning  of  the  very  ledges 
which  bound  it.  We  paused  to  survey  the  work  before  us,  cal- 
culating the  chances  of  success,  of  life  and  death.  We  knew  the 
dangers  attending  tho  operation  ;  that  life  had  on  fonner  occa- 
sions been  sacrificed  there,  and  that  tho  graves  of  the  brave  men 
who  had  fallen  were  not  far  distant  ;  and  we  remembered  that 
we  too  might  make  with  them  our  final  resting-])lace.  The 
work  was,  however,  commenced  ;  and  after  five  days  incessant 
aj)plication,  mutually  sharing  the  dangers  incurred,  we  made  a 


H 


^t 


108 


Kivi:ii  Lire,. 


i' 


11 


I 


I 


I 


! 


cl 


of  this 


illiuut  accidi'iit.     A  short 


I  sweep  01  mis  irnniensc 
di.stjiuce  below  are  Gordon  Fulls,  at  whieli  ])luee  there  is  a  con- 
traction oi"  the  channel,  with  hifrh  led<,''e.son  either  hand,  a  slrai<jfht 
hut  rapid  rini,  with  a  very  roufrh  bottom,  at  once  diliicalt  and 
dauj.':erous  to  navif,'ate  or  drive.  Hero  loj^s  to  a  *,'reater  or  less 
extent  always  jam,  the  number  varying  according  to  the  height 
oi'  the  ("reshot.  This  place  wc  soon  passed  successfully.  Logs, 
*  wanguu'  and  all,  were  soon  over,  excepting  one  empty  boat, 
wliich  i,\vo  brothers,  our  best  men,  in  attempting  to  run,  '  swamp- 
c  •  '\  I  ^r»psized;  in  a  moment  they  both  mounted  upon  her  bot- 
tom anc.  \  ere  swiftly  passing  along  the  dashing  river,  when  the 
boat  .struck  ^  hidden  rock,  and  the  iuromoLt  one  plunged  head- 
long into  the  boiling  waves.  Being  an  active  man,  and  an  ex- 
pert swimmer,  we  expected  to  see  him  rise  and  struggle  with 
the  tide  which  bore  them  onward  ;  but,  to  our  amazement  and 
sorrow,  we  saw  no  more  of  him  until  four  days  alter,  Avhen  hi.s 
corj)se  was  discovered  some  distance  below  the  i)lacc  of  this  sad 
accident.  At  the  foot  of  the  falls  a  small  jam  of  logs  made  out 
into  the  channel ;  several  of  the  men  ran  out  upon  this  to  rescue 
the  other,  who  had  also  lost  his  footing  on  the  boat.  He  passed 
close  to  the  jam  under  water,  when  one  of  the  crew  suddenly 
thrust  his  arm  down  and  seized  him  by  the  hair  of  his  head,  and 
drew  him  to  land.  On  recovering  from  the  shock  which  he  had 
sustained  in  his  perilous  passage,  and  learning  that  his  brother 
was  drowned,  he  blamed  the  crew  for  not  permitting  him  to  share 
the  same  fate,  and  attempted  to  plunge  again  into  the  river,  but 
was  restrained  by  force  till  reason  once  more  resumed  her  sway. 
The  Ijody  of  the  other  received  the  humble  attentions  usual  upon 
such  interments,  as  soon  as  a  coffin  could  be  procured.  Not  two 
hours  previous  to  this  accident,  this  individual,  taking  one  of  the 
crew  with  him,  visited  the  grave  of  a  fellow-laborer  near  by  ;  left 
the  spot,  launched  his  frail  boat,  and  lay  down  the  next  hour  in 
a  river-driver's  grave." 


i. 


!i1 


aiul 


RIVER    LIFE. 


1(59 


Fourteen  days  fiom  this  time  wc  drove  our  loofs  to  the  hoorn, 
havinf^  passed  a  distance  of  only  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles  iii 
ninety  days. 

The  rnode  of  livin*^  on  these  drivin*^  excursions  Is  altofrether 
"itinerant,"  and  really  comfortless,  for  the  most  part.  A  tem- 
porary shelter  where  night  overtakes  them  is  a  luxury  not  always 
enjoyed.  Often  nothing  is  above  them  but  the  forest's  canopy, 
and  beneath  them  the  cold  earth,  it  may  be  snow,  with  a  slight 
bed  of  coarse  boughs,  over  which  a  blanket  is  spread,  and  gen- 
erally a  large  fire  is  kept  burningJthrough  the  night.  Days  and 
nights,  without  intermission,  "re  often  passed  without  a  dry  shred 
to  the  back.  This  is  being  "  ^  ac'  d  ;"  and,  if  not  a  "  water  cure," 
it  is  being  water-soaked  in    arnrst. 

It  would  not  be  surprising  if  rheumatism  were  entailed  upon 
the  river-driver  as  a  consequ«  nee  of  such  exposure  ;  yet  I  have 
known  men  to  enjoy  better  health  under  these  ciicumstances  than 
under  almost  any  other.  As  an  instance,  I  have  seen  a  man  pass- 
ing sleepless  nights  with  asthma  at  home,  now  on  the  bed,  then 
on  the  floor  or  reclining  on  a  chair,  struggling  for  a  free  respira- 
tion until  his  very  eyes  would  start  from  their  sockets.  I  have 
known  such  a  man  exchange  his  position  for  the  exposures  pe- 
culiar to  log-driving,  and  never  for  once  suffer  from  this  distress- 
ing complaint  during  the  whole  campaign,  but,  on  returning  to 
the  comforts  of  home,  experience  an  immediate  relapse. 

From  the  foregoing  account,  which  is  really  believed  to  come 
short  of  the  reality,  the  reader  will  be  enabled  to  form  some  es- 
timate of  the  dangers,  hardships,  and  deaths  encountered  by  thou- 
sands in  the  lumbering  operations — a  business  which  is  hardly 
supposed  to  possess  any  peculiarities  of  incident  or  adventure  above 
the  most  common  pursuits  of  life.  How  little  are  the  generali- 
ty of  mankind  disposed  to  consider  as  they  should,  that  for  much 
which  contributes  to  their  comfort  and  ease,  many  a  hardship  has 
been  endured  and  multitudes  of  individuals  have  been  sacrificed 

U 


J 


Mini 


I;! 


170 


RIVER    LIFE. 


f 


I 


Tho  camping  utensils  for  river-driving,  with  provisions,  are 
moved  along  day  by  day,  according  to  the  progress  made  by  tho 
drive,  so  that  for  the  most  part  each  night  presents  a  new  loca- 
tion, with  the  usual  preparations.  The  boats  appropriated  for 
the  removal  of  the  whole  company,  apjiaratus,  and  provisions, 
■when  loaded,  arc  called  "  wayif^iais,'"  an  Indian  word  signifying 
bait,  and,  when  thus  appropriated,  means  bait  or  provision  boats. 

Among  the  dangers  to  be  incurred,  where  both  life  and  prop- 
erty are  hazarded,  is  that  of  "running  the  wangun" — a  phrase 
perfectly  understood  on  the  river,  but  which  the  uninitiated  will 
better  understand  when  I  say  that  it  means  the  act  of  taking 
these  loaded  bateaux  down  river  from  station  to  station,  particu- 
larly down  quick  water.  This  is  a  business  generally  committed 
to  experienced  watermen,  especially  when  a  dangerous  place  is 
to  be  passed,  as  to  "  swamp  the  wangun"  is  often  attended  with 
not  only  the  loss  of  provisions  and  utensils,  but  also  life.  From 
this  fact,  the  circumstance  is  always  regarded  with  interest  by 
all  hands,  who  watch  the  navigators  in  their  perilous  passage 
with  no  ordinary  or  unnecessary  solicitude. 

On  one  occasion  two  active  young  men  put  off  from  the  shore 
"with  the  "  Avangun,"  to  make  the  passage  of  some  quick  water 
just  at  the  head  of  a  fearful  fall,  where,  as  was  customary,  the 
whole  party  were  to  be  carried  by.  In  passing  a  rock,  where  the 
water  formed  a  large  whirlpool,  the  boat,  on  striking  it,  instant- 
ly capsized.  One  of  the  men,  being  an  expert  swimmer,  told  his 
comrade  to  take  hold  of  the  back  of  his  vest,  and  he  could  swim 
with  him  to  the  shore ;  but  the  current  carried  them  so  swiftly 
toward  the  falls  that  it  became  necessary  for  the  swimmer  to  dis- 
engage himself  from  his  companion,  who  clung  to  him  with  a 
death-grasp.  His  eflbrts  to  efl'ect  a  separation  were  unsuccess" 
ful,  and  every  moment  they  were  carried  nearer  to  the  fatal  falls. 
Suddenly  sinking  in  the  water,  the  swimmer  contrived  to  turn 
round  and  face  his  drowning  friend.     Drawing  up  his  legs,  and 


i 


IS,  are 
by  the 
V  loca- 
ted ibr 
irisions, 
iiilying 
L  boats, 
d  prop- 
phrase 
ed  will 
takirif? 
larticu- 
iiinitted 
place  is 
ed  with 
From 
irest  by 
passage 


I 


RIVER    LIFR. 


171 


bracing  his  foci  against  his  companion,  ho  gave  a  sudden  and 
poweriul  kick,  which  disengaged  him.  Then  rising  to  the  sur- 
face, alter  this  most  painful  act,  to  which  he  was  impelled  from 
dire  necessity,  he  struck  for  the  shore,  and  barely  reached  it  in 
.time  to  save  himself  I'rom  the  sad  fate  that  awaited  his  unfortu- 
''nate  associate,  who,  poor  fellow,  still  clinging  with  a  death-grasp 
to  the  shred  of  garment  \\  hich  was  rent  from  his  companion  in 
the  struggle,  was  carried  over  the  falls,  and  then,  passing  under  a 
jam  of  logs,  floated  down  the  river  several  miles,  where  his  body 
was  found,  and  interred  on  the  banks  of  the  Penobscot. 

I  have  often  passed  the  spot  where  he  sleeps.  The  green  grass 
waves  in  silence  over  his  grave,  and  now  the  plow  of  the  hus- 
bandman turns  the  greensward  at  his  side,  where  once  the  forest 
trees  majestically  waved  over  his  rude  bier. 

The  following  instance  of  the  remarkable  escape  of  a  river- 
driver  was  related  by  one  who  witnessed  the  allliir.  I  think  it 
happened  on  the  Androscoggin.  Among  the  crew  there  and 
then  engaged  was  a  young  man  who  prided  himself  upon  his 
fearlessness  of  danger  ;  and,  to  maintain  the  character  he  thus 
arrogated  to  himself,  would  unnecessarily  encounter  perils  which 
the  prudent  would  shun.  His  frequent  boastings  rendered  his 
society  not  a  little  unpleasant,  at  times,  to  the  less  pretending  ; 
and  although  this  dislike  was  not  so  great  as  to  lead  them  to  re- 
joice in  seeing  him  sufTer,  yet  an  event  which  might  be  hkely  to 
cool  his  courage  would  not  have  been  unwelcome  to  the  crew. 
On  one  occasion  he  ventured  upon  a  jam  of  logs  just  above  a 
rolling  dam,  over  which  the  spring  freshets  poured  one  vast  sheet 
of  water,  plunging  several  feet  perpendicularly  into  a  boiling  caul- 
dron. The  jam  started  so  suddenly  that  he  was  precipitated  with 
the  logs  over  this  fearful  place,  where  not  only  the  fall  and  un- 
der-tow  threatened  instant  death,  but  the  peril  was  imminent 
of  being  crushed  by  the  tumbling  logs.  No  one  really  expected 
to  see  him  come  out  alive,  but,  to  our  surprise,  he  oarae  up  like  a 


M 


II 


^ 


172 


RIVKR  LIFE. 


porpoiwc,  aiitl  swaui  lor  tlio  Bliore  ;  but  llio  swift  curriMit  swept 
liiiii  ilown,  and  canit-il  liiiii  iiiulor  a  jam  ol'  lo^'s  whicli  ioniied 
below  the  dam.  From  previous  exertion  and  exhaustion,  wo 
tlioujrlit  tills  must  finish  the  j)oor  fellow,  and  wo  really  began  to 
lor<,'et  his  laulls,  and  call  to  remembrance  whatever  of  virtue  lio 
liad  manife.sled.  Soon  a  dark  object  was  seen  to  rise  to  the  sur- 
face iimnediately  below  the  jam.  It  was  our  hero,  who,  eleva- 
ting,' his  liead  and  striking  forward  with  his  arms,  swam  with  a 
buoyant  stroke  to  a  small  island  just  below,  where  he  luiided  in 
safety,  having  sustained  no  injury,  and  without  liaving  experi- 
enced any  abatement  of  his  former  daring.  Seemingly  tiiere  was 
not  one  chance  in  a  thousand  for  the  life  of  a  man  making  such 
a  fearful  voyage.  This  circumstance  brings  to  mind  a  poetical 
sentiment  1  have  somewhere  read  on  the  ways  of  Providence  iu 
the  disposal  of  human  life  : 

"  An  earthquake  may  bo  bid  to  spare 
Tho  inun  tliat'a  strangled  by  a  hair." 

Men  often  lose  their  lives  where  wc  have  least  reason  to  expect 
it,  and  are  as  often  spared,  perhaps,  where  wc  see  no  grounds  of 
hope  for  them.  Thus  physicians  may  sometimes  be  censured  as 
unskillful  when  they  lose  a  patient,  while  in  fact  God  has  fixed 
the  bounds  of  mortal  life  ;  or  be  praised  for  skill  when  their  suc- 
cess is  but  apj)arent,  while  to  tlie  Creator's  purposes  alone  are  wo 
to  look  and  give  credit  for  such  deliverances. 

River-drivers  usually  eat  four  times  a  day — at  least  this  prac- 
tice obtains  on  the  Penobscot — viz.  :  at  five  and  ten  o'clock  A.M., 
and  at  two  and  eight  P.M.  After  the  two  o'clock  meal,  when 
the  drive  on  the  main  river  is  under  successful  headway,  the  camp- 
ground is  forsaken,  tho  tent  struck,  and  the  wangun  is  run  as  far 
down  river  as  it  is  thought  the  drive  will  reach  by  night,  where 
arrangements  are  made,  as  usual,  for  the  crew,  by  the  cook  and 
"  cookee,"  as  his  assistant  is  called.     It  may  happen  that  the  drive 


f* 

V 


niVKR    LIFE. 


173 


)rac- 
M., 
hen 

imp- 
far 

and 
■Irive 


dops  not  prof^ross  nccordiii;?  to  the  calculations  of*  the  cook,  and 
short  row  down  river  is  necessary  to  reach  the  wani^un. 

Between  the  mouth  of  the  Piscataquis  and  Oldtown,  a  distance 
of  twenty  or  twenty-five  miles,  are  numerous  beautiful  islands, 
some  of  them  larfre,  and  f^enerally  covered  with  a  heavy  jrrowth 
ol' hard  wood,  among  which  the  Elm  abounds.  WJien  the  logs 
arrive  at  this  ])oint,  many  of  the  encampments  are  fixed  upon 
these  islands.  As  the  sun  siidis  behind  the  western  hills,  tho 
lengthened  shadows  of  tho  beautilul  island  forests  shoot  across  tho 
mirrored  river,  casting  a  deep  sliade,  which  soon  disapjicurs  amid 
the  denser  curtain  of  an  advanced  evening,  with  which  thoy 
blend.  The  roar  of  rushing  waters  is  over,  and  the  current  glides 
smoothly  on.  No  sound  is  heard  but  the  echo  of  the  merry  boat- 
men's laugh,  and  of  voices  here  and  there  on  tho  river,  with  now 
and  then  the  shred  of  a  song,  and  the  creaking  and  plashing  of 
oars.  While  thus  passing  down,  as  the  boats  turn  a  sudden  bend 
in  the  river,  a  dozen  lights  gleam  from  the  islands,  throwing 
their  lengthened  scintillations  over  the  water.  Now  the  ques- 
tion goes  round,  "  Which  is  our  light  ?"  "  There's  one  on  tho 
cast  side  I"  "  Yes,  and  there's  another  on  Sugar  Island  I"  •'  And 
there's  one  on  Hemlock  1"  says  a  third.  "  Why  the  d — 1  hadn't 
they  gone  to  Bangor,  and  done  with  it?"  "  Wangun  No.  1, 
ahoy  I"  shouts  the  helmsman,  a  little  exasperated  with  fatigue 
and  hunger.  Now,  while  all  the  rest  of  the  cooks  remain  silent, 
No.  1  cook  responds  in  turn.  Another  calls  out  the  name  of  their 
particular  log-mark  :  "  Blaze  Belt,  ahoy  I"  "  Where  in  thunder 
are  you  ?"  "  Blaze  Belt,  this  way,  this  -way  I"  comes  echoing 
from  Hemlock  Island,  and  away  the  Blaze  Belt  bateau  rows  with 
its  merry-making  crew.  Thus  each  crew,  in  turn,  is  finally  con- 
ducted to  its  respective  camp-fire. 

The  prospect  of  a  release  from  the  arduous  labors  on  the  drive 
at  this  point  of  progress  raises  the  thermo  ;eter  of  feeling,  which 
imparts  a  right  merry  interest   to  eve      thing.      Like  sailors 


}) 


t: 


:  r  V 


174 


RIVEll    LIFE. 


« 


"homeward  bound,"  after  a  lliroe  or  nine  months'  cruise,  and 
"within  one  day's  sail  of  port,  relaxation  and  pastimes  only  are 
thou'^'^iit  and  talked  of. 

The  mine  of  song  and  story  is  opened,  and  the  rarest  speci- 
mens of  match  songs  and  "  stretched"  stories  are  coined  and  made 
current  by  the  members  of  the  dill'erent  crews.  The  "  smartest 
team,"  "chopper,"  "barker,"  "the  largest  tree,"  "the  biggest 
log,"  "  the  greatest  day's  work,"  bear  or  moose  stor}',  the  Qucrits 
of  crews,  teamsters,  "bosses,"  cooks,  and  swam})ers,  I'alls  and  rap- 
ids, streams  and  rivers,  all,  all  come  \\\)  as  themes  of  converse, 
gong,  and  story.  There  is  less  hurrying  in  the  morning  now  than 
in  the  former  part  of  the  driving  ;  let  the  water  rise  or  fall,  it  is 
all  the  same  thing  at  this  point,  for  the  driver  has  reached  the 
ample  channel  of  the  river,  m  here  neither  falls  or  rapids  occur, 
A  day,  and  the  work  is  consummated — 'tis  done  I  '  The  crews 
are  disbanded  :  they  disperse,  some  to  their  homes  and  farms ; 
some  to  idleness  and  recreation  ;  some  to  hire  in  the  mills  to  saw 
the  logs  thus  run  ;  others  to  take  rafts  of  boards  to  tlie  head  of 
tide  navigation,  where  hundreds  of  vessels  are  in  waiting  to  dis- 
tribute the  precious  results  of  the  lumberman's  toil  to  the  thou- 
sand ports  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  coasts,  where  the  sound  of 
saws,  planes,  and  hammers  of  a  million  houso-wrighls,  cabinet- 
makers, carj)enters,  coopers,  and  jobbers  make  the  air  vocal  with 
the  music  of  cheerful  labor,  giving  bread  to  the  millions,  wealth 
to  thousands,  and  comfort  and  convenience  to  all. 

For  this  branch  of  human  industry  we  set  up  a  ^laim,  in  point 
of  rank,  not  yet  awarded  to  it  by  the  world.  VVe  claim  for  it 
greater  prominence  as  a  source  of  wealth — greater  respect  on  the 
ground  of  the  talent  and  skill  concentrated  by  the  prime  opera- 
tors— greater  deference  for  it  as  a  business — for  the  endurance, 
energy,  and  courage  of  the  thousands  of  hardy  freemen  who  en- 
gage in  it,  and  greater  interest  from  <he  amount  of  substantial  ro- 
mance and  adventure  in  the  "Life  among  the  Loggers." 


i 


RIVRR    I.IFK. 


1 


tif 


point 

for  it 
Ion  the 
lopera- 

rauee, 
lio  cn- 

ial  ro 


I 


"VYliilc  it  is  the  professed  ol»jeet  of  this  vchime  fuillifully  to 
portray  all  the  points  alluded  to,  I  am  nevertheless  impressed 
with  the  idea  that  no  point  whieh  I  have  treated  comes  so  I'ar 
short  of  the  reality  as  the  attempt  to  picture  the  romance  of  the 
business. 

The  boom,  whieh  constitutes  the  general  receptacle  of  all  logs, 
is  worthy  a  few  lines  of  observation. 

On  the  Penobscot  it  stretches  up  the  side  of  the  river  in  the 
vicinity  of  numerous  islands,  whose  location  is  peculiarly  favor- 
able ;  the  boom-sticks  run  from  one  island  to  another,  and,  where 
the  distance  is  too  great,  a  pier  is  suidc — a  stpiare  frame  of  stout 
timber  filled  with  stones.  Those  piers  sometimes  s])an  the  \\  hole 
river,  united  by  the  boom-sticks.  This  is  true  of  the  main  huom 
on  the  ISt.  Croix.  On  the  Penobscot  it  stretches  up  the  river 
about  two  miles  ;  fit  the  upper  end  there  beiug  a  shear  hot)m, 
which  swings  out  to  intercept  and  turn  the  logs  floating  down 
the  river  into  its  ample  embrace. 

The  Boom  Corporation,  on  the  Penobscot,  is  regulated  l)y  legis- 
lative enactments,  and  all  logs  running  into  it,  or  within  the  lim- 
its of  its  charter,  are  subject  to  its  laws  and  regulations.  Its 
bounds  embrace  a  section  of  the  river  six  miles  in  length,  and  to 
the  care  of  all  logs  coming  within  its  limits  the  agent  is  obliga- 
ted to  give  his  attention,  and  the  company  responsible.  It  is  the 
duty  of  the  boom-master,  with  the  men  under  him,  to  raft  the 
logs  of  each  individual  in  parcels  by  themselves  previous  to  their 
delivery  for  the  mills,  guided  in  his  selection  by  the  juirticular 
marks  cut  on  the  logs,  for  which  service  and  safe-keeping  the 
owner  or  owners  ol'  the  boom  receive  thirty-three  cents  pi'r  J/. 
feet,  board  measure,  which  makes  the  ])roiierty  of  the  hoom  very 
valuable.  In  addition  to  this,  every  log  iinunl  in  the  boom  with- 
out a  mark  is  a  "  prize  log." 

Among  other  duiies  devolving  on  the  boom  ngent  Is  to  inspect, 
personally,  every  raft  of  logs,  setting  down  the  number  and  mark 


f 


ll 


>\ 


176 


RIVER    LIFE. 


'    i 


in  a  memorandum  kept  for  the  purpose.  This  course  of  man- 
agement protects  each  log-owner's  property  from  plunder,  as,  in 
case  any  and  all  persons  were  indiscri:  inately  allowed  to  raft 
out  logs,  the  temptation  might  prove  too  strong,  in  some  r  oses,  to 
regard  with  due  honesty  logs  bearing  marks  of  a  dillere  it  char- 
acter. Besides  these  main  booms,  there  are  many  lesser  ones, 
up  and  down  the  river,  subject  to  no  special  legislation  or  law 
except  the  will  of  the  owner. 

These  observations  relate  chiefly  to  the  Penobscot  and  St.  Croix 
Rivers.  Of  the  rules  and  regulations  of  similar  corporations  on 
other  rivers  I  am  uninformed,  but  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  they 
are  much  the  same,  in  general. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Observations  on  the  St.  Cn)i.\  River. — Boundary  Line. — Pine  Timber. — Ag- 
riculture in  the  Interior. — Youthful  Associations  with  Grand  Lake. — Tradi- 
tionary Name  of  Grand  Lake. — Lake  Che-pet-na-cook. — Rise  of  Eastern 
BrancVi  St.  Croix. — Lumbering  I'rospects. — Hemlock. — Reciprocal  Rela- 
tions of  the  Lumber  Trailc  between  Americans  and  Provincials. — The 
Machias  Rivers. — Origin  of  Name. — Character  of  Soil. — Lumber  Resources 
and  Statistics. — West  Madras. — Narraguagues  River,  curious  Definition 
of — Capacity  of  Stream. — Statistics. — Union  River — Observations  on  its 
Lumbering  Interests. — .Mills  in  Franklin. 

Having  in  the  foregoing  pages  given  brief  sketches  of  some  of 
the  most  interesting  trcc^  known  to  us,  devoting  considerable  at- 
tention to  the  White  Pine,  and  th^  life  and  adventures  of  lum- 
bermen, the  concluding  pages  of  this  book  will  consist  of  brief 
Bketches  of  the  rivers  of  Maine  and  New  Briuiswick,  and  such 
statistics  as  to  the  extent  of  the  lumbering  operations  on  each 
river  as  may  interest  the  curious  in  sueh  matters. 


er. — Ag- 
Tradi- 
"^astern 
1  Rela- 
.— The 
sources 
fuiition 
on  its 


blc  at- 
r  lum- 
brief 
such 
each 


I 


RIVER    LIFE. 


177 


The  Mschoodiac.  more  ffcn**rally  known  as  the  ^t.  Croix,  con- 
stitnles  the  first  link  in  iho  Ujunkdary  between  Maine  and  the 
province  of  New  Brunswick. 

The  name  by  which  this  river  is  more  generally  known  is  St. 
Croix,  whioh  is  probabl)  ot"  French  ori^iiO.  The  orij^inal  and  In- 
dian name  is  Schoodiac.  An  intcllifrent  Indian,  bclnnfrinf^  to  the 
Penobscot  tribe,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  the  si<rnitication  of 
the  orifrinal  names  which  our  rivers  bear,  informed  me  that  the 
sip'nifu'ation  of  Mschoodiac  was,  "  Burned  land  river,"  "  Open 
space,"  or  "Wide  prospect  river,"  thus  derivit«<?  its  name  from 
some  peculiarity  in  the  country  alonjr  its  borders 

Probably,  at  some  period  anterior  to  the  while  man's  knowledore 
of  our  Western  World,  a  section  of  foicsl  adjacciit  to  .some  part  f 
the  river  was  destroyed  by  fire,  oriirinatiiifj  p<n*haps  in  the  torch 
of  some  invading  tribe  as  they  laid  waste  the  wigwams  of  their 
discomfited  enemies,  or  from  the  embers  of  the  little  fire  kindled 
by  the  hungry  hunter  to  cook  his  Imrried  meal.  In  process  of 
time,  the  principal  part  of  a  forest,  withered  and  destroyed  by 
such  a  devastating  scourge,  would  full  to  the  ground,  opening 
wide  prospects  where  densely-compacted  forest  trees  once  com- 
pletely circumscribed  the  view.  But  the  river  may  have  derived 
its  name  from  a  circumstance  of  still  earlier  date,  viz.,  the  exist- 
ence of  immense  fields  of  mcadoio  land,  which  abound  more  or 
less  in  the  whole  region  Ivin?  about  the  St.  Croix,  often  aflordinsr 
the  voyager  an  unobstructed  view  for  miles  up  and  down  the 
strerm.  In  former  years  vast  quantities  of  this  wild  grass  were 
cut  by  lumbermen  for  the  subsistence  of  oxen  Mid  horses  during 
their  winter  operations. 

The  St.  Croix  has  two  branches,  the  east  and  west  ;  the  lat- 
ter, at  its  source,  is  contiguous  to  the  head-waters  of  the  Machias 
River  in  the  west,  while  the  former,  being  of  more  import anco 
and  greater  magnitude,  stretches  far  to  the  north  to  the  lak<  s, 
whence  is  its  source.     Of  these  bodies  of  water  mention  may  be 


if 


I';' 


tf» 


ill 


I 


>(l 


178 


RIVER    ITFE. 


J.    ' 


I 


made  of  Grand  Lake  in  particular,  whif^'  is  al  out  twonty-fivo 
miles  lon^  by  eight  wide  at  its  greatest  extent,  rornautieally  diver- 
gilied  in  the  northern  part  with  beautiful  islandd,  deep  coves,  and 
far-reaching  points  of  land,  covered  with  dense  and  rather  under- 
sized trees.  T^  e  shores,  east  and  west,  are  composed  for  the 
most  part  of  immense  granite  rocks,  rising  very  abruptly  on  the 
southwest  to  a  considerable  elevation,  covered  with  a  heavy 
growth  of  majestic  Pine,  Hemlock,  and  Spruce-trees. 

Beautiful  white  sand  beaches,  which  run  outward  with  a  very 
gradual  descent  for  many  rods  into  the  lake,  aflbrd  a  most  luxu- 
rious bathing-ground,  where  probably  the  young  savages  of  for- 
mer generations  gamboled  and  indulged  in  acjuatic  sports. 

Not  many  years  since,  an  unbroken  forest  stretched  abroad  over 
a  vast  area  of  country,  of  which  this  lake  formed  a  central  point. 
The  pervading  silence,  which  rested  like  night  over  this  vast  wil- 
derness, was  only  broken  by  the  voice  of  the  savage,  and  the  dis- 
cordant bowlings  of  wild  beasts.  But  withiu  a  few  years  the  ax 
of  the  pioneer  has  leveled  large  tracts  of  forest,  and  thus  opened 
the  virgin  soil  to  the  sun's  germinating  lays,  so  that  now  may  be 
seen  skirting  the  shores  of  the  lake,  north  and  northwest,  culti- 
vated fiehls,  relieving  the  solitude  which  onci;  reigned  there.  The 
gray-haired  red  man  of  jiast  generations  knew  this:  lake  by  the 
name  Madongamook  which  signilied  "Great  grandsires,"  and 
owes  its  origin  to  i'i(  ;  )llowing  circumstance  :  From  time  im- 
memorial it  is  said  tliat  some  of  the  aborigines  made  the  imme- 
diate vicinity  of  this  lake's  outlet  a  permanent  annual  "  setting- 
down  pl'".ce,"  or  head-quarters.  Here  their  ancestors  gathered 
around  the  council-fire  for  uncounted  generations.  Hence  this 
sheet  of  water  was  called  Great-great-grandsire's  Lake,  of  which 
Grand  Lake  is  an  abridgment. 

The  author  entertains  many  pleasant  reminiscences  of  former 
visits  to  this  lake.  To  use  the  language  of  the  red  man,  he  has 
fcpeut  many  pleasant  "  moons"  on  the  shores  of  Madongamook, 


Lst  wil- 

,he  dis- 

ithc  ax 

jpeiied 

aay  bo 

culti- 

Tho 

y  the 

and 

c  im- 

inme- 

tting- 

hered 

le  this 

vhich 

|)nner 

haa 

liook, 


RIvRU    LIFE. 


no 


j»addl<Hl  M'ilh  the  Indian  hunter  in  his  tiny  bireh  over  -ts  sliver 
waters,  chased  wild  game  through  its  I'orest  conflnos,  aiu!  flung 
from  its  transparent  depths  the  delicious  trout.  lu  iiaus  aihrm 
that  there  is  in  these  waters  a  great  lish,  "  all  one  big  as  canoe," 
a  sort  of  fresh- water  whale. 

But  it  is  time  to  proceed  on  our  down-river  trip.  So,  leaving 
the  outlet  of  Grand  Lake,  and  j^assing  south  about  two  miles 
across  a  "  carrying-place,"  we  strike  the  head  of  another  lake, 
called  Chr-pct-7ia'(oo/c,  into  which  the  surplus  waters  of  the  for- 
mer lake  pass.  The  name  by  which  this  lake  is  designated  is 
said  to  signify  Jiil/i/  ])0?ul  or  /a/tC  In  i'onn  it  is  long  and  nar- 
row, resembling  a  deep,  massive  river.  That  peculiarity  from 
which  its  name  is  derived  is  strikingly  prominent.  A  range  of 
abrupt  and  elevated  ridges  rises  suddenly  irom  its  western  shore, 
covered  with  a  close,  iieavy  growth  of  trees,  principally  iSpruce. 
One  peak  of  the  ridge  rises  several  hundred  feet  from  the  surface 
of  the  lake,  which  is  called  "  Spruce  MountaDi.''  After  mid- 
day, a  section  of  this  riiountain  ridge,  so  dense  and  frowning  as  to 
resemble  a  thunder-cloud,  casts  a  cavernous  shade,  like  a  misty 
])all,  over  the  surface  of  its  waters,  which  s«eem  to  lay  with  pros- 
trate fear  at  its  base,  imparting  an  oppressive  solemnity  over  the 
scenery. 

At  the  foot  of  this  lake,  which  is  between  h.venty  and  tliirty 
miles  long,  the  east  l)ranch  of  the  tSt.  Cndx  takc-s  its  lise.  From 
this  point  it  pa.jses  through  a  rocky  channel  lor  the  most  j)art, 
occasionally  flowing  through  a  section  of  meadow  or  intervale 
land  until  it  reaches  Baring,  a  distance  (.f  some  fifty  miles,  where 
for  the  first  time  it  meets  with  a  formidable  barrier  to  its  hitherto 
wild  and  unrestrained  progress  in  the  character  of  a  "  r/awi." 
Passing  this  through  its  various  avenues,  it  Hows  on  to  Milltown, 
which  occupies  both  sides  of  the  river,  and  includes  both  the  En- 
glish and  American  villages.  Between  this  place  and  the  head 
of  ship  navigation,  some  two  miles  distant,  the  channel  is  dammed 


.i' 


•iu 


m 


U 


'( .  I 


|i : 


180 


RIVER    LIFE. 


several  times  on  a  succession  of  i'alis,  where  are  numerous  saw- 
mills ;  and,  linully,  allor  having  leaped  a  thousand  rocky  preci- 
pices above,  and  strufifrlcd  through  as  many  gates  and  sluice- 
ways below,  it  quietly  lh)ws  on  to  the  Passamaquoddy  Bay,  where 
its  restless  waters  find  repose  in  the  bosom  of"  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 

In  regard  to  the  lumbering  resources  on  this  river,  I  believe  it 
is  generally  admitted  that  the  supply  of  Pine  is  comparatively 
Email,  the  principal  part  having  already  been  brought  to  market; 
and  although  the  territory  belonging  to  this  river  is  large,  still 
its  resources  arc  curtailed  by  the  proximity  of  the  head-waters 
of  the  St.  John,  Penobscot,  and  Machias  llivers. 

The  comparative  scarcity  of  Pine  timber  has  induced  the  man- 
ufacture of  a  much  larger  proportion  of  Spruce  than  formerly  ; 
still  it  is  presumed  that  the  same  amount  of  Pine  lumber  now 
annually  cut  may  continue  to  be  for  years  to  come.  Should  Hem- 
lock come  into  more  general  use,  the  resources  of  the  lumbermen 
will  be  greatly  augmented,  as  timber  of  this  kind  abounds  on  the 
St.  Croix.  And  why  may  not  this  be  the  case  ?  For  many  pur- 
poses Hi'mlock  lumber  is  preferred  to  Pine.  A  gentleman  in 
Bangor  informed  the  writer  that  he  had,  from  choice,  made  use 
of  Hemlock  boards  for  nice  floors  to  a  residence  recently  built  for 
himself",  esteeming  it  richer  in  color,  less  liable  to  indentation,  and 
of  greater  durability.  With  the  exception  of  Pine,  the  resources 
for  lumber  on  this  river  are  still  very  considerable,  and  must  con- 
tinue to  be  for  many  years,  unless  sweeping  fires  shall  blacken 
and  wither  the  beautiful  forests  which  now  adorn  the  interior. 
Vast  tracts  of  timber  land  have  already  been  destroyed  by  fire 
on  the  territory  belonging  to  this  river,  as  the  blanched  trunks 
nf  standing  trees,  and  barren  hill  country  surrounding  Bailey- 
viUo,  Baring,  Calais,  and  St.  Stephen's,  most  painfully  indicate, 
greatly  marring  the  beautiful  scenery  wliich  once  adorned  the 
valley  through  which  the  river  flows. 

Lumber  manufactured  on  this  river  may  be  considered  as  both 


RivF.R  urn. 


181 


rous  saw- 
'ky  preci- 
id  sluice- 
ly,  where 
ic  Ocean, 
believe  it 
laratively 
I  market ; 
irf^e,  still 
id- waters 

the  man- 
ormerly  ; 
iber  now 
Lild  llem- 
nbermcn 
ds  on  the 
lany  pur- 
eman  in 
nadc  use 
built  for 
Lion,  and 
•csoiirces 
lust  con- 
blacken 
interior. 
I  by  fire 
1  trunks 
Bailey- 
iidicate, 
lied  the 

as  both 


t 


Eiif^lish  and  Auicricaii  jiroduotrt  ;  still,  by  coinmon  concurrtMirc, 
and  not  strictly  i«i  accord iuici.  witii  revenue  regulations,  it  in 
.slii|t])etl  indi.^criniinately.  The  niaiuiractuie  oltlie  J']n^'lisli  side 
ol"  the  river  is  received  on  board  Auiericau  veiJ^Jels  and  sliipjied 
to  the  States,  and  the  lumlier  inaiuiraetnred  on  the  American 
side  shijiped  on  board  English  vessels  and  taken  to  the  Engli.»h 
markets  duty  IVee. 

For  tiic  most  part,  the  firms  who  conduct  the  hunherin^  busi- 
ness on  the  St.  Croix  are  of  great  respectability  ;  several  of  tlum 
are  very  weahliy. 

The  following  labK*  of  estimates  has  been  gathered  from  the 
most  reliable  sources:  and,  ahhongh  mathematical  exactness  n 
not  i)reteuded,  still  it  is  believed  that  the  calculations  here  pre- 
sented a]>proach  the  truth  sulileiently  near  to  give  the  reath'r  a 
very  satisfactory  view  of  the  cxlctil  oi'  the  Inmbering  (tperalions 
on  the  bouiuhuv  river  : 


No.  (if  S;i\v-tii!!Is 

"     Lalli  Miicliiiies. 


Kiiu'iHh.  Amcric.-iii.  ,  Avcriim!  jirict?  jut  M. 
CO. 


Aiuoiint  of  Ldiiu'  Lumljor 

'*  hlllll.S 

"  Shiiii^lcs 

riiUi't.-; 

"  Ul;iii-l)(iar»ls 

No.  of  .Tiiiii(MT  Knees 

"       McTi   c'iii[tloyt'cl,  diiectlv  and 

iudirecllv ' i     1,-,MI0  t<.  l...(t() 

"      Oxrn  ami  Unrsf'H,  do '  1,0(10 


C). (1(10,000. 
!M). Olio. 000. 

'J  1. 000, (too. 

L'.KI.i.OOO. 
•JOO.OOO. 

h,;hjo. 


$7 

.'iO. 

1 

00. 

o 

.'iO. 

:{ 

.-.(). 

18 

00. 

1 

•10 

L'Ul 

•h. 

Leaving  tlic  St.  Croix,  ami  traveling  westward  about  forty 
miles,  we  come  to  East  Alachias  Ifiver,  to  the  west  ol  which,  six 
miles  distant,  is  another  rivo    calh'(l  West  Machias.      The  name 

*  To  tlio  followinp  gontlomcn,  vi/..  Mi  -srs.  TmM  &,  Darling.  .T.  M-.Mihter, 
Esq.,  of  St.Rtei)li(Mrs.  mid  to  W .  I'ike.  I',^(|.,  i)(»rt  surveyor;  I,.  1-.  Lowell, 
Esq.,  nnd  other  gentlemen  of  Calai.s,  I  am  Tiuder  laHtiiig  oldigatioiis  for  iho 
courteous  and  intelligeut  niuiuier  in  wliicli  thoy  roKpouded  t(»  the  variuiu 
ijuestioas  proposed  iti  preparing  tlje  stutititics  fur  the  above  table. 


I     ,1 


182 


RlVr.U    Mill 


M 


ichias  ori^nuiitt'd  in  sonu'  o 


)}i.<tnu'tioii  ill  llic  \v;iv  of  llio  Indian 


travt'lor,  either  in  iho  rivor  ittJoU' or  upon  its  banks,  whether  nat- 
ural or  accidental  I  aui  not  aware. 

The  eastern  stream  is  ahout  iU'ty  miles  loufr,  ineludiunr  tlie 
email  lake,  wliicli  constitutes  its  cliiei"  source,  and  is  navifrable 
only  about  six  miles  lor  larjje  vessels,  at  which  point  the  village, 
bearing  the  same  name  as  the  river,  is  located,  and  also  the  mills. 
As  the  lake  which  ieeds  the  river  is  led  principally  by  springs, 
it  allbrds  a  good  supply  of  water  the  year  round.  The  land  in 
the  inuuediatc  vicinity  of  the  stream  is  cpiite  good  for  agricul- 
tural jiur[)oses  ;  but,  as  we  recede  from  the  river,  the  soil  a}»pears 
poor,  presenting  a  desolate  and  lorbidding  asjiect.  Once  a  nour- 
ishing forest  covered  it,  but  now  blackened,  decayed,  and  decay- 
ing truidvs  of  trees,  scorched  by  fire,  some  i)rostrate,  others  still 
standing,  limbless,  naked,  and  desolate,  intermingle  with  a  small, 
dwarfish,  and  sparse  second  growth,  and  mantel  the  sterile  plain 
and  rocky  hill  side.  Indeed,  this  is  but  too  true  a  portrait  of  im- 
mense tracts  of  land  all  along  the  coast  of  Maine,  from  the  ISt. 
Croix  to  the  Penobscot,  and  still  further  westward.  It  is  won- 
derful that  these  desert  regions,  whose  sterility  scarcely  gives  ex- 
istence to  the  wild  grass  and  stinted  shrubs  which  grow  there, 
once  supported  a  dense  ami  majestic  forest. 

At  East  Machias  village  tliere  are  seventeen  saws  in  opera- 
tion, and  eleven  lath  machines;  the  latter,  for  the  most  part,  are 
situated  in  the  base  of  the  saw-mills,  and  manufacture  laths  from 
the  slabs  made  in  the  mill.  At  this  i)lace  the  saws  cut,  on  an 
average,  about  six  hundred  thousand  feet,  board  measure,  to  a 
saw,  one  half  of  this  lumber  being  sawed  from  Pine,  and  the  oth- 
er from  Spruce  logs.  The  same  quality  of  lumber  brings  fifty 
cents  more  per  thousand  here  than  on  the  ISt.  Croix.  In  answer 
to  the  question,  Whi/  is  this  so?  the  reply  was,  "We  saw  near- 
ly all  our  lumber  to  order,  and  of  prescribed  dimensions." 

The  resources  for  lumber  are  still  quite  abundant.     The  West 


1 


RIVKR    LIFE. 


isn 


Iiidiuii 
ler  iiat- 

IiifT  tlio 
vi«j:al)lc 
villaji^c, 
le  mills, 
springs, 
liiiul  ill 
agriciU- 
a^tpoars 
a  llour- 
l  clecay- 
ers  still 
a  small, 
ile  plain 
t  of  im- 
Ihe  ^i. 
is  won- 
ves  ex- 
there, 

opera- 
irt,  are 
lis  from 
oil  ail 
to  a 
lie  olli- 
^s  llity 
luswer 
iiear- 

AYest 


Machias  stream  is  alxmt  llie  same  size  as  the  East,  holli  beiii'^ 
quite  small  ;  it  iia.s  more  iiiimeroiis  water  jtrivileges,  and  is  more 
liahle  to  be  ali'ected  by  droughts.  Here  the  liMMhcriiig  opi-ratioiis 
are  (rarried  on  more  vigorously  than  on  the  otlirr  river,  cutting 
some  two  hundred  thousand  more  to  a  saw.  The  greatest  dis- 
tance tiiat  hmiber  has  been  cut  from  the  village  is  about  sixty 
mill's.  Opinions  the  most  reliable  encourage  the  l)elicf  of  the 
existence  of  sullieient  timber  to  meet  the  demands  of  this  market 
for  years  to  come.  This  stream  is  also  navigable  lor  vessels  up 
to  the  mills,  being  carried  at  llood-tide  quite  near  the  mill  slips, 
where  they  receive  their  cargoes.  Both  rivers  imply  into  Ma- 
chias  Bay  at  })i)ints  quite  ap])roximate,  through  which  lloat  the 
cargoes  ol"  industrial  wealth  to  the  In'oad  Atlantic  and  to  the  va- 
rious ports  of  destination. 

Annexed  is  a  table  showing  at  a  glance  the  state  of  the  lum- 
ber trade  per  annum  on  each  river  :* 


i: 

AST    MaCHIA 

s. 

17. 

Av»'r;ii;o  price  jxt 

M. 

Total. 

No.  of  Shw-iu'IIs 

$S   00. 

$si.(;oo. 

"       Liitli  .^'  iicliiiius    .... 

11. 

lO.OOO.OOO. 

Aiiittuiit  of  Loii^  Liiiulxn'.. 

N(j.  of  Liittis 

l:J,-iOO,UOO. 
4:.0. 

1   00. 

Hi. 000. 
$111,800. 

"       Men  oniplovtvl 

"       Uxt'ii  Jiiid  Ilofsos,  <lo. 

• 

3S0. 

Wkst  Macih;* 

s. 
.Average  price  per 

20. 

M. 

Total. 

No.  of  S;i\v-inills 

"       L:itli  Maclniies 

11. 

18.0(10.000. 

$S   00. 

$141,000. 

Aiiioiiiii  of  Loll'-'  Liim!)i;r.. 

No.  of  Lutlis 

. 

10,800,000. 

1   00. 

10.800. 

"       Men  (Miiplovod 

47.-). 

$100,800. 

"       Oxen  and  Horses,  do. 

- 

400. 

. 

*  I'or  the  mo.st  inipnitjiut  fact.s  involved  in  the  annexed  sfatcnu'iit  I  am 
rldcHy  itidrhtiMl  to  the  kindiies.s  of  Deacon  Talbot,  of  Kast  Macliias,  and  to 
other  ijeutleiuea  en"ai.'ed  ill  the  business  residin''  at  West  Machias. 


I 


; 


181 


RIVHR    LIFE. 


Tlia  next  river  wormy  of  nolo,  fir  llio  lumber  it  pnHluces,  is 
the  IS'iiniij,Miajrues,  whosf  wuters  di.-euiho^Mie  into  a  small  hay  bear- 
in*,'  the  ijame  name,  timly  miles  beyond  tlie  West  Maeliias,  il« 
course  beinj^  nearly  parallel  with  the  latter. 

The  true  Inilian  orlli(>^a'ai)hy  is  said  to  be  Na-la-gua-g\vee3, 
and  si^ruilies  jjalate,  stream,  or  river.  To  une  the  precise  lan- 
pua're  of  my  Indian  interpreter,  openinjj^  ids  mouth  wiile  and 
lhru.sling  hi.s  lin^aM'  down  his  throat,  "It  means  aJ  ono,jes  if  I 
0})en  my  mouth  and  river  run  down  my  tliroat  into  mine  belly." 
AVhether  there  is  any  peculiarity  about  the  river,  or  the  form 
of  the  bay  into  which  it  falls,  to  orij^inate  such  a  name,  1  am  un- 
aware. 

This  stream,  for  water  power,  is  about  equal  in  its  capacity  to 
cither  of  the  Machias  rivers.  The  nulls  are  jirincipally  located 
at  Cherrylield,  where  are  fifteen  .saw  and  ei<^ht  lath  mills,  three 
8liin«;lo  and  one  claji-board  machine.  The  saw-mills  arc  said  to 
produce  about  nine  millions  of  lonj^  lumber  })er  annum,  worth 
ci^dit  dollars  per  il/.  on  an  averaf^e.  The  lath  mills  produce  six 
million  four  liundred  thousand  pieces,  worth  one  dollar  per  ili. 
Kine  hundred  thousand  sliinj^les  arc  annually  turned  out,  at  two 
dollars  and  fifty  cents  |)er  M.  The  (dap-board  machine  may  be 
credited  with  one  lumdred  thousand  i)ieees  during  the  savviufr 
geason  ;  of  their  (piality  1  am  not  informed.  In  general  they 
range  I'rom  fifteen  to  thirty  dollars  jicr  M. 

Computing  the  value  of  the  foregoing  products,  we  have  pre- 
sented tlie  annual  product  : 

Long  Lumber $72,000 

Laths 6,100 

SShinglcs 2,250 

Clap-boards 2,000 

Total $82,050 

Sixty  teams  arc  said  to  be  employed  on  this  river  during  the 


4 


t  m 


RIVFR    I,[FE. 


185 


Lt  two 

ay  ))e 
Lvvini^ 
.  they 


pro- 


I 


hauliii"^  sousoii,  and  abtmt  tliivo  luiiulrcd  iikmi.  Tlic  rcsoiircos 
lor  liMnIxT  were  reported  hy  tlie  ninst  iiilrlliMfcnl  ojieralors  a.s 
equal  lo  tliose  ot  .my  lunihcr  district  in  tlie  state  (irri|ii;il  si/e. 

In  tlie  adjoiiiiiif,'  town  ol'  FranKliii  live  saw-mills  wrre  report- 
ed, situate  on  small  streams,  doiiij;  a  lar<r<'  business.  These  mills 
uro  said  to  manul'acture  ul)out  three  inillion  feet,  worth  eight  dol- 
lars per  iir,  ^ivinj^  twenty-lour  thousand  dollars. 

About  halfway  between  tlie  Narrajruajriu's  and  the  l'en(d)scot 
Rivers,  and  upon  an  almost  exact  parallel  with  the  lailcr,  runs 
TTnioii  liiver,  which  disem)>o«i:ues  into  an  arm  ot  Frenchman's 
Bay.  On  the  banks  ol"  this  river,  near  its  iuouth,  stands  tlu;  vil- 
laj^o  ol"  ICllsworth,  which  is  decidedly  one  e>''  the  most  bcaiitilul 
])laecs  in  Maine,  and  in  the  immediate  vicinity  ol'  which  the  mills 
are  principally  located  ;   in  all,  about  twenty-live. 

The  annual  amount  of  lon;^  luml)er  nuiniifacfurcd  here  is  aljout 
sixteen  million  i'eet,  worth  some  hundriMl  and  twelve  thousand 
dollars  ;  the  ajrjrrejjate  amount  of  the  various  kinds  (d"  short  lum- 
her  annually  produced  is  worth  S(tme  sixteeu  thou.-and  dollars 
more. 

FroVn  four  to  five  hundred  men,  and  about  the  same  number 
of  oxen  and  horses,  are  employed  in  the  lnmberin<:  busiiu'ss.  Lof^a 
are  driven  from  two  to  fortv  miles.      The  territory  throuL""!!  which 

*  •  — 

this  stream  flows  is  well  timbered,  and  afibrds  an  abundant  sup- 
ply of  logs. 


>l 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  873-4503 


b  .'<' 


18C 


RIVER    LIFE. 


M 


^i 


■I 


CHArXEE    IV. 

Penobscot  Rivrr — Its  v.'irioiis   Xamos — Chanictor  of  the   Country  through 


whitli  it  Hows — Its  Length — The  vast  Extent  ot"  Tonitory  vvhicli  it  ihai 


ns 


— Its  Miiltiliide  of  I.ak 


IvTS. 


■Mt)uut  Ktiuidn. — Indian  Legend. — Kh-vatio 


n 


of  the  Mountain. — Uvcrwhi'lniing  Trosiwct. — A  Sabbath  in  the  Wilder- 
ness.— Moose  in  tlie  Lake. — An  uncoinlbrtable  NiLilit. —  I)i\  Jackson's  Nar- 
rative.— N(;w  I^uniber  IJesonrees. — The  intinestiiii,' Oiiirin  of  this  new  Ro- 
Bonrco. — Jolni  Bull  outwitted. — Freshets  on  the  I'enobscot. — Fresliet  of 
18'l(),  cause  of  it. — fSndden  Uise  of  Water. — Bangor  subnterged. — Bowl- 
ders of  Ice. — Destruction  of  I'roperty. — Narrow  E.scapo  of  Ferry-boat. — 
Peril  of  Boys. — Editorial  Observation.s. — Lunil)er  Statistics. — Where  the 


Joy 

Lumber  finds  a  ISIarket. — Speculations  on  liilnre  Trospects  of  Lumber 
Interests. — Anticipations  of  the  Future. — Bangor. 


ini 


Passing  westward  in  a  direct  line  about  twenty  miles,  we 
come  to  the  noble  and  interesting  PenoLscot.  Altliowrli  Penob- 
scot is  now  the  name  oi"  the  entire  river,  it  was  originally  the 
name  of  only  a  section  of  the  main  chamiel,  I'rom  the  head  of 
tide-water  to  a  short  distance  above  Oldlown.  Penobscot  is  the 
Indian  name,  and  signifies  stony  or  rocky  river,  as  it  certainly  is 
within  'he  above  limits,  being  nothing  less  than  a  continuous 
fall  before  the  dams  were  built. 

From  the  head  of  tide-water,  at  the  city  of  Bangor,  to  the 
mouth  of  the  river,  a  distance  of  about  thirty  miles,  it  was  known 
to  the  Indians  by  the  name  of  ]3aam-tn-gnai-took,  which  means 
broad  river,  sheet  of  water,  or,  more  literally,  all  waters  united. 
Another  section  of  the  river  is  called  Gim-sit-i-cook,  signifying 
smootii  or  dead  water. 

Unlike  the  Kennebeck,  and  similar  to  the  St.  Croix,  the  Pe- 
nobscot flows  chiefly  through  a  wilderness  counlry.  The  time 
is  yet  distant  when  its  banks  shall  exhibit  the  same  advances  in 


i 


{ 


the 

liown 

leans 

ited. 

Pe- 

[ime 
Is  iu 


RIVER    LIFE. 


187 


agricultural  imlustry  and  wealtli  wliich  now  beautify,  enrich, 
and  enliven  the  banks  of  the  Kenncbeck. 


A  Coaster  ascending  the  Penobscot  for  Luuiber. 

This  river,  on  many  accounts,  is  the  most  important  in  Maine, 
and  at  present,  from  its  vast  lumbering  resources  and  operations, 
the  most  noted.  It  is  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles  long,  with 
numerous,  and,  in  some  instances,  copious  branches,  which  drain 
an  immense  uncultivated  territory,  embracing  a  region  of  country 
from  east  to  west  about  one  hundred  and  llfty  miles  in  breadth, 
spanning  the  whole  of  the  northern  portion  of  the  state,  running 
round  and  cutting  ofi'  the  head  waters  of  the  St.  Croix  on  tlie 
cast,  and  of  the  Kenncbeck  on  the  west,  interlacing  its  numerous 
branches  with  those  of  the  St.  John's  Ptivcr  iu  the  north,  which 
brings  within  its  embrace  about  one  third  the  entire  wilderness 
territory  of  Maine. 

The  scenery  in  some  sections  of  this  territory,  about  the  head 
waters,  is  grand  and  picturesque.  Its  numerous  water-falls,  some 
of  which  are  fearful  to  contemplate,  much  more  for  the  river- 


! 


! 


Il 


188 


nivi:R  LIFE. 


!l 


A 


\^ 


m 


drirrr  lo  work  njiou  ;  Its  swelliiifr  hills,  ami,  in  some  instances, 
ti)%\erinj^  )iiniintaiii,s,  IVoni  avIiosu  to])S  may  be  counted  an  almost 
endless  number  oi"  lakes,  and  tlio  vast  groves  oi"  lowering  pines 
here  and  there  scattered  over  millions  of  acre-J  oi"  I'orest  land, 
make  it  altogether  one  oi'  the  wildest  and  most  romantic  pt)rtions 
ol"  country. 

One  of  the  most  attractive  features  in  the  interior  is  Mount 
"Ktaadn,"  which,  from  its  isolated  position,  height,  and  sublime 
grainU'iir  as  tlie  "  birth-})lace  of  storms,"  surrounded  with  a  beau- 
til'ul,  rich,  and  luxuriant  forest,  "with  streams  and  lakes,  is  worthy 
of  special  attention. 

The  following  sketch  of  a  visit  to  tliis  mountain  by  a  party  of 
genllemen  may  be  esteemed  wortliy  of  a  perusal  : 

Our  travelers,  after  having  made  the  ascent  of  the  river  to  the 
proper  point,  and  made  the  necessary  arrangements  for  their 
j(nirney  up  the  mountain,  "  entered  the  slide  at  eight  o'clock" 
A.^M.,  in  the  early  part  of  {September,  and  found  its  ascent  quite 
steep,  "though  not  dillicult  or  dangerous  at  all,  when  one  takes 
tune. 

"  On  almost  all  sides  of  the  mountain  there  is  a  short,  tangled 
growth  of  alders  and  white  birch  coming  np  between  the  rocks. 
These,  being  kept  down  by  llie  winds,  grow  into  an  almost  im- 
passable bramble.  At  a  distance  it  has  a  beautiful,  smooth  ap- 
pearance, like  a  green,  grassy  hill,  or  what  one  of  the  company 
called  a  'piece  of  oats.'  The  slide  serves  as  a  path  up  through 
all  this  tangle,  reaching  to  the  top  of  the  southeastern  ridge  of  the 
mountain,  which  is  above  all  timber  growth,  making  about  one 
third  of  the  whole  perpendicular  lieight  of  Ktaadn,  to  which  the 
ascent  of  the  brook  below  would  add  another  third. 

"  Although  it  M'as  hard  climbing,  we  ascended  pretty  fast,  and 
the  clear  morning  air  gave  an  indescribable  beauty  to  the  i)ros- 
pect  below.  The  most  pleasing  was  the  constant  change  and  va- 
riety caused  by  our  rapid  ascent.     It  was  known  that  the  mount- 


||(|  (  V'l      I  ■ 


3  takes 

aii<rlod 
rocks. 
.st  iiu- 
h  ap- 
iipaiiy 
rough 
of  the 
t  one 
h  the 


I 


auc 


Ipros- 

Ll  va- 

)unt- 


IUVi;U    LIl'K. 


191 


( 


;iiu,  ill  this  season  of  tlic  year,  is  iVcqiieuti'cl  hy  Ix-ars  in  pursuit 
ol"  crauberries,  hut  \\c  did  not,  see  any,  tiiouiili  our  <:iaiuer  had 
enjoined  sil'Mice  in  hopes  oi"  ohlaining  a  shot.      1  louiaincd  with 
tlie  re;"!',  to  see  all  up  sale.      The  most  zealous  '  Ment  ahead,"  and 
were  soon  out  oi"  sijihl,  until,  near  the  head  ot"  the  slide,  \\c  heard 
them  irom  the  distant  topmost  peaks  ealling  out,  '  Come  on,  ye 
hrave  I'      At    this   distanee    they  looked   very   suuiU    in    stature. 
From  the  head  ol"  the  slide  wo  turned  to  the  left,  and  asc'eniled 
northwest  to  the  ilrst  and  most  eastern  peak  ;   by  this  time  our 
comrades  had  reached   the  most  Avestern.      ^^  c   here  paused  to 
view  our  position.     It   is   perhaps  the   most   favorable  spot  lor 
surveying  the  whole  structure.      From  thence  the  princi})al  peaks 
are  in  a  curved  line,  going  soutliM^esl,  then  Mcst  and  northwest. 
Tiie  second  peak,  called  by  us  the  '  Chinniey,'  is  near  the  (irst, 
hut  separated  by  a  sharp  cut  one  hundred  and  lifty  or  two  hund- 
red feet  de(>p,  and  nearly  scpuirc  in  its  form.     AVe  had  seei;  one 
of  our  comrades  upon  its  sunnnit,  else  we  might  not  have  attempt- 
ed the  ascent.     His  zeal  seemed  to  blind  him  to  danger,  for,  w  hen 
rpiestioned  on  our  return,  he  could  neither  tell  ichcn  or  hoiv  he 
ascended.      Our  Ilrst  plan  was  to  pass  around  the  base  \\  ithout 
going  over  the  top  ;  but  this  ^^•e  found  impossible,  and  were  about 
to  give  up,  when  one  pointed  out  a  diagonal  course,  where,  by 
taking  a  few  pretty  long  steps,  he  thought  we  could  ascend.      1 
tried  Ilrst,  and  succeeded,  and  all  followed  but  two.      From  the 
'Chinniey'  we  went  from  one  hammock  to  another,  making,  on 
the  whole,  a  gradual  ascent,  till  we  reached  tlie  middle  of  the 
principal  peaks,  a  distance  of  nearly  half  a  mile.      There  we  met 
our  comrades  on  their  return  from  the  M'estern  peak,  and  all  sat 
down  to  rest.     Here  Ave  found  a  moimment  that  had  been  erect- 
some  former  visitor,  but  was  ovcrirrown  with  moss, 


by 


api) 


ing  lonely,  as  if  it  had  seen  no  relations  for  years.  On  the  first 
and  most  eastern  peak,  all  the  monuments  which  I  had  made  the 
year  previous  looked  new  and  fresh.     It  is  not  easy  to  decide  which 


1' 


— n 


192 


nrvHR  Lirn. 


|! 


\ 


■     i 


' 


,1 


of  the  two  (the  western  aiul  middle  peaks)  is  highest.  Judgment 
was  given  in  favor  of  the  middle  one. 

"While  sitting  on  the  south  side  of  the  monument  at  twelve 
o'clock,  we  put  the  thermometer  in  a  favorable  place,  and  it  went 
up  to  84°.  At  the  same  time,  on  the  north  side,  and  six  feet  from 
us,  water  was  freezing,  and  the  snow  dry  and  crusty.  Near  hy 
the  monument  a  rock  stood  in  its  natural  position,  having  a  .sharp 
peak  in  the  top.  This  was  the  highest  one  of  the  kind.  Of  thij^ 
about  four  inches  were  broken  of!',  and  one  of  the  company  car- 
ried it  home  with  the  conviction  that  wc  had  lowered  the  height 
of  Ktaadn  to  that  amount.  About  two  P.M.  we  returned  to  tlic 
eastern  peak.  It  may  be  well  to  pause  here  and  take  a  re-sur- 
vey of  the  scene  thus  far  presented,  and  as  much  more  as  can  bo 
viewed  from  this  point. 

"  From  this  eastern  peak  a  spur  makes  out  eastward  one  mile. 
Half  a  mile  down,  however,  it  divides,  and  a  branch  runs  to  the 
northeast  the  same  distance.  On  the  southwest,  across  the  cut, 
is  the  '  Chimney.'  From  this  the  line  of  peaks  and  hammocks 
curves  to  the  west  till  it  reaches  the  middle  and  highest  peak. 
From  one  hammock  to  the  other  there  are,  in  all,  thirty  rods  of 
narrow  passes.  Some  of  th'em  are  so  narrow  that  a  man  could 
drop  a  stone  from  either  hand,  and  it  would  go  to  unknown  depths 
below.  In  some  places  the  only  possible  way  is  over  the  top,  and 
only  one  foot  wide.  For  a  great  part  of  the  time  the  wind  blows 
across  these  passes  so  violently  that  the  stones  themselves  have 
to  be  firmly  fixed  to  keep  their  places.  It  seemed  remarkable,  as 
if  for  our  convenience,  that  the  day  of  our  visit  was  still  and  quiet. 
From  the  middle  peak  the  line  curves  to  the  northwest,  to  the 
further  monument.  From  this  point  a  branch  makes  down  to 
the  southwest,  having  on  it  some  extensive  table-lands,  while  the 
top  ridge  or  curve  turns  directly  north  with  the  '  sag.'  At  the 
bottom  of  the  '  sag'  we  come  upon  a  wide  flat,  which  runs  north 
half  a  mile,  and  stretches  out  to  a  considerable  width.     At  the 


H 


I 


■i 


rudgmcnt 

at  twolve 
id  it  went 
feet  from 
Near  Ly 
g  a  sliarp 
or  this 
pauy  rar- 
lie  hei/^ht 
led  to  the 
a  re-sur- 
as can  be 

one  mile. 

nis  to  the 

s  the  cut, 

ammocks 

st  peak. 

y  rods  of 

lan  coiihl 

11  dcptlis 

top,  and 

d  blows 

vcs  have 

iable,  as 

nd  quiet. 

t,  to  the 

down  to 

vhile  the 

At  the 

ns  north 

At  tha 


U( 


RIVRR    I.IFF. 


103 


V 


^ 


northern  extremity  of  the  flat  the  ridi:^e  curves  to  tlu>  cnst,  ami 
•ises  to  a  peak  about  equal  in  height  to  the  eastern  ptNiIc  of  tho 
northern  wing.  This  is  probably  the  highest  of  ihc  nortlieni 
peaks,  I'rom  M'hich  a  spur  makes  down,  a  little  soiilii  of  east,  to 
within  one  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  one  that  ctJincs  IVoni  tho 
southern  wing.  All  this  nearly  includes  a  deep  basin,  with  walla 
almost  ])erpeiulieular,  and  in  some  places  apparently  two  thou- 
sand feet  liigh. 

"  To  survey  the  bottom  of  this  basin  1  have  since  made  a  .sep- 
arate journey.  It  contains  perhaps  two  hundred  acres,  covered 
with  large  square  blocks  of  granite  that  seem  to  have  come  from 
the  surrounding  walls.  There  are  in  all  six  lakes  and  ])onds, 
varying  in  size  from  two  to  ten  acres.  One  of  them  1  cros.sed  on. 
ice  the  15t.i  of  October. 

"  From  itL:  outlet  inward  to  the  southwest  is  about  a  mile, 
where  there  is  a  small  lake  of  clear  water  which  has  no  visible 
outlet.  So  far  as  I  can  learn,  I  was  the  first  human  visitor  to 
this  fabled  residence  of  the  Indians'  Pamolah.  It  is  not  strango 
that  a  superstitious  people  should  have  many  traditions  of  his 
wonderful  pranks,  and  be  kept  away  from  close  engagement  with 
such  a  foe.  When  we  reach  the  lake  on  our  way  to  Ktaadn,  it 
is  easy  to  sec  the  origin  of  those  fears  which  the  Indians  are  said 
to  have  respecting  the  mountain  as  the  residence  of  Pamolah  or 
Big  Devil.  Clouds  form  in  the  basin,  and  are  seen  whirling  out 
in  all  directions.  Tradition  tells  a  '  long  yarn'  about  a  '  hand- 
some squaw'  among  the  Penobscots,  who  once  did  a  great  busi- 
ness in  slaying  her  thousands  among  the  young  chiefs  of  her  na- 
tion, but  was  finally  taken  by  Pamolah  to  Ktaadn,  where  he  now 
protects  himself  and  his  prize  from  approaching  Indians  with  all 
his  artillery  of  thunder  and  hail. 

"  The  Indian  says  that  it  is  '  sartin  true,  'cause  handsome 
squaw  always  ketch  em  deble  ;'  whether  this  be  true  or  not,  the 
basin  is  the  birth-place  of  storms,  and  I  have  myself  heard  tho 


{i 


Il 


194 


RIVER    LITE. 


roar  of  its  winds  for  several  miles.  But  on  the  15th  of  October, 
"when  I  entered  it  and  went  to  the  upper  lake,  all  was  still  as 
the  house  of  nymphs,  except  when  we  ourselves  spoke,  and  then 
the  thousand  echoes  were  like  the  response  of  fairies  bidding  us 
welcome.  In  this  way  the  music  of  our  voices  would  find  itself 
in  the  midst  of  a  numerous  choir  singin":  a  '  round.' 

"  The  upper  lake,  which  I  visited  and  went  around,  has  an 
inlet,  a  white  pearly  brook,  cominfi^  out  nearly  under  the  chim- 
ney, and  runninj^  a  short  distance  through  alders  and  meadow 
grass.  It  has  no  visible  outlet ;  but  on  the  north  side  it  seems 
to  ooze  out  among  the  rocks.  We  can  trace  this  water-course 
curving  to  the  east  of  north  till  it  reaches  the  lower  and  laigest 
lake,  from  which  flows  a  brook  sufficiently  large  for  trout  to  run 
up.  This  brook  curves  to  the  south,  running  into  West  Branch, 
and  is  called  Roaring  Brook.  The  mountain  around  this  basin 
is  in  the  form  of  a  horse-shoe,  opening  to  the  northeast.  From 
the  peak  on  the  northern  wing  there  is  another  deep  gorge,  partly 
encircled  with  a  curving  ridge,  which  some  would  call  another 
basin.  On  the  north  side  of  this  gorge  there  is  a  peak  nearly 
equal  in  height  to  the  one  on  the  south  of  it,  but  considerably 
further  east,  making  this  northern  basin  or  gorge  open  to  the 
southeast.  These  two  basins,  from  some  points  of  view,  seem  to 
be  one.  From  the  last-mentioned  peak  the  mountain  slopes  off 
from  one  peak  or  shoulder  to  another,  perhaps  three  miles,  before 
it  reaches  the  timber  growth.  Some  of  the  branches  of  the 
Wassataquoik  come  from  this  northern  part,  but  some  of  them 
from  the  basin  or  southern  part  of  Ktaadn. 

"  Rough  granite,  moss-covered  rocks  are  spread  over  its  whole 
surface  from  the  short  growth  upward.  Blueberries  and  cran- 
berries grow  far  up  the  sides.  At  the  time  of  our  visit  consider- 
able snow  lay  on  its  summits  and  lined  the  walls  of  the  great 
basin.  The  party,  ©f  course,  found  plenty  of  drink.  The  Ava- 
lanche Brook,  having  its  source  about  the  middle  of  the  slide, 


Rivnn  LIFE. 


195 


October, 
)  still  as 
Lud  then 
ilclitifj  us 
ud  itself 

,  has  an 
le  chim- 
meadow 
it  seems 
,cr-course 
d  laigest 
ut  to  run 
:  Branch, 
his  basin 
t.     From 
rre,  partly 
another 
c  nearly 
sidcrably 
n  to  the 
seem  to 
lopes  off 
js,  before 
s  of  the 
of  them 

ts  whole 
|nd  cran- 
jonsider- 
llie  great 
|he  Ava- 
lie  slide, 


^ 


furnished  water  jujrc  as  crystal.  The  ascent  was  attended  with 
some  danger  and  fiitigiio.  ]Jnt  what  a  view  when  the  utmost 
luMghts  are  gained  I  What  a  magnificent  panorama  of  forests, 
lakes,  and  distant  mountains  !  The  snrlace  of  the  earth,  with 
its  many-tinted  verdure,  resembled,  in  form  and  smoothness,  tiio 
swelling  sea.  In  the  course  of  the  forenoon,  light  fogs  from  all 
the  lakes  ascended,  and,  coming  to  Ktaadn,  intertwined  them.selves 
most  fantastically  above  onr  head.^  then  settled  down  and  dis- 
persed. J3ut  what  can  be  fitly  said  about  the  vast  expanse  of  tho 
heavens,  to  be  seen  from  such  an  elevation,  esj)eeially  when  tho 
sun  goes  down,  and  the  glowing  stars  a])j)ear  in  silent  majesty? 
All  the  gorgeous,  artificial  brilliancy  oi"  man's  invention  is  moro 
than  lost  in  the  comj)arison.  Language  has  no  power  to  describe 
a  scene  of  this  nature.  The  height  of  Ktaadn  above  the  level 
of  the  sea  is  live  thousand  three  hundred  i'eet.  Its  position  is 
isolated,  and  its  structure  an  immense  curiosity.  From  its  sum- 
mit very  few  populous  places  are  visible,  so  extensive  is  the  in- 
tervening wilderness.  On  its  sides  the  growth  of  wood  is  beau- 
tiful, presenting  a  regular  variation  in  altitude  and  size  all  the 
way  up  to  the  point  where  it  ceases. 

"  The  great  basin  described  by  Mr.  Keep  was  to  none  of  us 
an  inferior  object  of  interest.  Want  of  time  and  strength  pre- 
vented our  descent  into  it.  It  is  open  to  general  inspection  iiom 
all  the  heights  around  it.  The  day  being  quiet,  the  view  was 
divested  of  much  of  its  terror  ;  but  wo  could  readily  believe  it 
the  abode  of  all  the  furies  in  a  stonn,  and  where  the  polar  mon- 
arch has  his  chief  residence  in  Maine.  We  called  to  each  other 
across  the  basin,  and  echo  answered  'Where  I'  in  earnest.  The 
air  was  exhilarating,  as  may  be  supposed,  but  the  ellect  not  aa 
sensible  as  we  anticipated. 

"  The  whole  party  returned  to  the  head  of  the  slide  at  three 
P.M.,  and  engaged  in  picking  cranberries.  These  grow  on  all 
parts  of  the  mountain  above  the  timber  region,  and  no  doubt  an- 


Mil 


lOG 


RIVKR    LIFE. 


■il 


yj 


iiii.'illy  yii'ld  many  tliousaiwl  buslicls.  '  Tliry  ^tow  on  vinoM  anionpf 
tlio  rucks,  and  arc  conunonly  called  Iho  mountain  or  liiyfhland 
cranberry.  Tlicy  are  smaller  than  the  meadow  cranberry,  but 
ol  a  bettor  flavor.' 

"At  lour  o'clock  six  of  the  party  went  down  to  tin;  camp  to 
prepare!  fuel  lor  the  Sabbath.  Our  ;rnide  and  the  /gunner  re- 
inaiucd  at  the  head  ol"  the  slide  all  ni<;ht,  and  k<  pt  a  lire  with 
old  roots  ;  yet  it  was  presumed  that  they  had  now  and  then  a 
liUlc  cohl  cemlbrt.  The  result  ui"  their  stay  is  thus  s«jt  Ibith  by 
]\lr.  Kee[»  : 

"  '  On  Sabb.ith  morninfjf  the  eastern  liori/on  was  clear  ot"  clouds, 
and  A\'e  looked  anxiously  lor  tlic  Bun.  Just  belore  it  came  up,  a 
Lriiiht  streak  appeared  oi"  silver  whiteness,  like  the  reflected  [\\i\\\ 
ol"  the  moon.  We  could  see  the  lurther  outline  olland  cpiite  j»lai)j, 
and  i'or  a  short  distance  beyond  was  this  silvery  streak.  tSoon  a 
small  arc  ol"  the  sun  appeared  above  this  briji^ht  hue.  I  was  hard- 
ly able  to  control  my  emotion.s  while  the  whole  came  in  si<,'ht. 
On  ^Saturday  night,  about  sundown,  our  view  oltlie  country  around 
■was  more  distinct  and  enchantin<^  —  a  boundless  wilderness  in 
all  directions,  much  ot"  the  view  beinj^  south  of  the  lakes.  Oi' 
the  latter,  not  far  from  two  hundred  are  to  be  seen  dottiui?  the 
landscai)C,  In  one  of  them  we  can  count  one  hundred  islands. 
Soon  alter  sunrise  on  Sabbath  morniufr  we  went  down  to  the 
camp  to  spend  the  day  with  the  company.' 

"  That  holy  morning  found  us  refreshed,  and  somcwliat  pre- 
pared to  appreciate  our  peculiar  circumstances.  The  weather 
was  charming.  The  air  resounded  with  the  pleasing  murmur  of 
tlie  Avalanche  Brook,  as  it  flowed  down  over  its  bed  of  rocks  ;  nor 
was  the  song  of  birds  denied  us.  Gentle  breezes  stirred  the  beau- 
tiful foliage  of  the  circling  M'oods.  Impressive  stillness  reigned, 
and  the  whole  scene  was  adapted  to  awaken  happy  and  exuber- 
ant emotions. 

"  Early  we  mounted  some  rocks  on  the  bank  of  thQ  stream  to 


niVP.R    MI'R. 


197 


M  amonpf 
liljflil;iu(l 
cny,  but 

cninp  to 
iniKT  re- 
liro  Avith 
(I  llu'ii  a 
t  luitli  by 

of  cloud??, 
\ine  u|i.  a 
ctt'd  li^^ht 
lite  plain, 
tSoou  a 
was  liard- 

in  sight. 
ry  arouucl 
lerucss  in 
ikes.  Oi" 
)lliug  the 
d  islands. 

iL  to  the 

diat  pre- 
wcathcr 
iurmur  of 
)cks  ;  nor 
Ithe  beau- 
reigned, 
tl  exnber- 

Itream  to 


& 

H 


ward  the  rising  sun,  and  overlooking  a  vast  region  of  c(.unlry, 
and  there  poured  lorth  sacred  melody  to  onr  heart's  content.  Tho 
echo  was  glorif>u.s.  Verily  we  thought  our  '  feet  woro  set  in  a 
large  j)lace  ;'  and  we  could  readily  inuigine  that  the  wide  crea- 
tion had  found  a  tongue  with  which  our  own  exulted  in  uni.son, 
"At  the  hour  appointed  we  as.sembled  in  the  camp,  and  en- 
paired  in  tlie  exercises  of  a  religious  conierence.  It  was  good  to 
be  there.  The  scene  finds  its  portraiture  in  the  word.s  of  Cow- 
per : 

"  '  The  calm  retrciit,  tlic  .silent  shade, 
With  pniy'r  mid  praise  agree, 
And  seem  by  thy  sweet  bounty  made 
For  those  wlio  follow  theo. 

Then,  if  thy  8[)irit  touch  tho  soul, 

And  grace  her  mean  abode, 
O  !  witli  what  peace,  and  joy,  and  love 

She  there  conununes  with  God.' 

**  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  we  enjoyed  a  measure  of  such 
experience.  The  day — the  place — the  topics  of  remarks — the 
songs  of  Zion — all  encircled  by  a  kind  Providence,  and  made  ef- 
fective by  tlie  presence  of  God,  M'ill  ever  be  worthy  of  a  grate- 
ful remembrance. 

"  In  the  afternoon,  by  request,  Rev.  Mr.  Munsell  addressed  us 
from  the  1 1th  verse  of  the  145th  Psalm,  '  They  shall  speak  of  tho 
glory  of  thy  kingdom,  and  talk  of  thy  power.'  Our  position  add- 
ed deep  interest  to  the  theme  of  discourse,  and  naturally  furnished 
much  ground  for  illustration.  Indeed,  the  entire  services  of  the 
day  were  attended  with  peculiar  influences,  being  had  under  cir- 
cumstances so  widely  diiiercnt  from  the  ordinary  life  of  the  com- 
pany, 

"  That  Sabbath  Avas  our  delight,  even  in  the  face  of  a  possible 
deficiency  in  food.  But  the  course  adopted  imparted  bodily  rest 
and  a  peaceful  mind. 


V 


m 


i 


(1 
^<1 


108 


RIVER    LIFE. 


!i 


'I 

Mi 

Ml 


H! 


M 


I   ; 


i 


"We  had  traveled  with  burdens  oil  our  backs  twenty-five  miles 
— crossed  several  streams — climbed  rough  hills — walked  on  rocky 
places  —  tumbled  over  huge  trunks  of  fallen  trees — crowded 
through  plenty  of  jungle — waded  the  Avalanche  Brook — and  all 
this  in  forbidding  weather  ;  but,  aside  from  the  glorious  view  on 
the  summit  of  Ktaadn,  our  toil  found  its  recompense  in  the  nov- 
elty and  influence  of  a  Sabbath  observance  on  such  an  elevation, 
and  amid  the  wild  scenes  and  solitudes  of  a  mountain  forest. 

"  {Scarcity  of  food,  and  the  engagements  of  some  of  the  party, 
made  it  necessary  on  Monday  morning  to  start  for  home.  We 
left  the  camp  about  half  past  nine,  following  down  the  brook  to 
the  point  from  whence  avo  ascended,  and  then  direct  to  the  lake. 

"  'At  this  time,'  says  our  guide,  '  we  fell  into  much  confusion 
on  account  of  two  of  the  company  who  were  missing,  the  gunner 
and  Mr.  Mescrvcy,  for  whom  we  made  search,  but  in  vain.  Few 
can  imagine  our  feelings  save  those  who  have  heard  the  cry  of 
lost  coming  up  from  the  deep  gloom  of  the  wilderness  in  the  na- 
tive tone  of  some  wanderer  calling  for  help.  After  consultation, 
it  was  resolved  that  we  must  leave  the  ground  for  home,  hoping 
for  the  best.  We  left  at  one,  and  came  to  the  lake  at  four  P.M., 
and  here,  to  our  great  joy,  we  saw  a  smoke  on  the  opposite  side, 
near  the  outlet,  and  at  live  rejoined  our  missing  companions. 
Tliey  had  caught  trout  enough  for  us  all,  weighing  from  one  to 
three  pounds.  With  these,  and  cranberr  --sauce  in  plenty,  also 
bread,  pork,  a^nd  tea,  we  made  merry  around  a  cheerful  fire. 
That  night,  however,  a  storm  of  rain  coming  up,  found  us  poorly 
prepared.' 

"In  this  connection  an  incident  may  be  related.  Just  before 
our  arrival,  while  the  gunner  was  fishing,  suddenly  two  moose 
bounded  furiously  into  the  lake,  and  appeared  to  be  swimming  to- 
ward him.  Though  all  along  desirous  of  an  interview,  their  visit 
was  rather  too  startling.  He  scampered  with  all  haste  to  the 
shore,  seized  his  gun  and  fired,  but  the  balls  would  not  go  through 


III 


mVER    LIFE. 


139 


e  miles 
n  rocky 
rowded 
and  all 
view  oil 
he  nov- 
3vation, 
rest. 
e  party, 
,e.     We 
brook  to 
he  lake, 
oiii'iision. 
}  gunner 
I.     Few 
e  cry  of 
the  na- 
Itation, 
hoping 
Lir  P.M., 
te  side, 
^anions. 
1  one  to 
ity,  also 
fill  fire. 
s  poorly 

t  before 
moose 

ning  to- 

leir  viijit 
to  the 

through 


f 


^ 


the  '/««','  which  at  that  season  afforded  protoclion,  and  so  the 
moose  escaped. 

"  The  night  just  referred  to  was  a  time  of  realities..  Truth 
proved  '  slraiu-^  '•  than  fiction.'  Amid  anxiety  for  the  lost,  the 
ax  had  been  Iclt  on  the  mountain.  A  j)ile  of  logs  lay  near  the 
outlet  of  the  lake.  With  some  of  these  our  missing  companions 
had  made  a  iire  ;  some  formed  the  lloor  of  tlie  camp,  and  others, 
used  as  rafters,  were  covered  with  boughs  for  protection,  but  not 
from  rain.  On  the  above  floor  (the  sjjot  allowing  no  other),  no 
boughs  at  hand  could  make  a  downy  bed.  Every  one  found  out 
that  he  was  composed  of  flesh  and  bones.  It  also  became  didl- 
cuh  to  regulate  the  fire,  so  that  the  heat  was  often  intense.  Con- 
trary winds  would  ever  and  anon  drive  the  smoke  into  the  camp, 
and  thus  cause  great  involuntary  weeping.  The  scene  wasJcU, 
and  few  could  find  sleep  without  stealing  it.  It  was  visiblii  dark- 
ness all  around.  Toward  midnight  the  rain  commenced.  On® 
of  the  party,  writing  to  another  from  Lincoln  in  December,  says, 
'  Old   Mount  Ktaadii  from  this  place  looks  dreary  enough.     Its 


Northeast  view  ol"  Mouut  Ktaudn,  from  the  west  brjiuch  of  the  reiiubscot 


I, 


!  '-'M 


II 


M 


>n 


f  '« 


'i 


(  ■■  ' 
i 


h 


li 


200 


RIVER    LIFE. 


snow-capped  top  often  reminds  me  of  our  amusing  adventures  ; 
but  nothing  in  all  our  travels  affords  more  amusement  in  mo- 
ments of  meditation  than  the  night  on  the  Pond  Dam.  That  old 
plaid  cloak,  dripping  in  the  rain  ;  its  occupant  upon  a  log  with- 
out the  camp,  singing  "  The  morning  light  is  breaking,"  "when  it 
was  only  one  o'clock  ;  and  then  again,  "  He  shall  come  down  like 
rain,"  kc. — all  together  have  left  an  impression  on  my  mind  not 
soon  to  be  ellaced.' 

♦'  The  occupant  of  that  '  cloak,'  unable  to  sleep,  conversed  with 
the  '  daughters  of  music,'  and  was  prompted  to  sing  the  night 
out  and  the  morning  in  ;  and  as  the  rain  increased,  the  whole 
crew  joined  heartily  in  the  chorus.  Our  departure  from  such 
lodgings  was  very  early.  Beneath  continual  droppings  from  the 
trees  and  bushes,  we  pressed  through  an  obstinate  path-way,  and 
arrived  at  the  Wassataquoik  camp  at  half  past  nine.  This  march 
was  really  toilsome,  but  brought  us  out  at  the  desired  point. 
After  a  long  rest,  we  followed  the  old  supply  road  most  of  the 
way,  forded  the  Wassataquoik,  and  came  out  opposite  Mr.  Hunt's, 
whence  the  bateaux  took  us  across  the  East  Branch.  This  was 
a  little  past  four  o'clock  P.M.  Our  appearance  was  far  from 
beardless,  our  '  externals'  somewhat  ragged  and  torn,  and  our  ap- 
petites keen  as  a  '  Damascus  razor.'  *  Mine  host'  and  family  re- 
ceived us  most  cordially,  having  felt  some  anxiety  in  our  absence. 
They  made  us  joyful  around  a  full  table  of  good  things.  On  the 
day  following,  Wednesday,  we  passed  to  Mr.  Cushman's,  and  on 
Thursday  took  conveyances  for  home." 

Another  visitor*  to  this  point  of  attraction  observes  : 
"  While  I  was  engaged  in  noting  the  bearings  of  this  mount- 
ain, the  clouds  suddenly  darted  down  upon  its  summit  and  con- 
cealed it  from  view,  while  we  could  observe  that  a  violent  snow- 
squall  was  paying  homage  tu  Pomola,  the  demon  of  the  mount- 
ain.    Presently  the  storm  ceased,  and  the  clouds,  having  thus 

*  Dr.  Jackson. 


I    ' 


i 


I 


RIVER    LIFE. 


201 


lount- 
con- 

3110W- 

liount- 
thus 


i 


.1 


paid  their  tribute,  passed  on,  and  left  the  movuitaiu  wliite  with 
snow.      This  took  place  on  the  20th  ot"  !Se})teniber. 

"  Crossing  the  lake — '  Millnoket,  a  most  beautilVil  sheet  of  wa- 
ter, containing  a  great  number  of  small  ishaids,  from  which  cir- 
cumstance it  takes  its  name' — we  reached  the  carrying-place  at 
the  head  of  a  long  creek,  where  we  pitched  our  camj)  amid  a  few 
poplar-trees,  which  were  of  second  growth,  or  have  spiung  up 
since  the  forests  were  burned.  The  want  of  good  fuel  and  of 
boughs  for  a  bed  was  severely  felt,  since  we  were  obliged  to  re- 
pose on  naked  rocks,  and  the  green  poplar-trees  appeared  to  give 
more  smoke  than  fire.  The  night  was  cold  and  the  wind  violent, 
so  that  sleep  was  out  of  the  question.  Early  in  the  morning  we 
prepared  to  carry  our  boats  over  to  Ambijejis  Lake,  and  tlie  la- 
bor was  found  very  dillicult,  since  the  water  was  low,  and  we 
had  to  traverse  a  long  tract  of  boggy  land  before  reaching  the 
other  lake. 

"  Tracks  of  moose  and  cariboo  abound  in  the  mud,  since  they 
frequent  the  shallow  parts  of  the  lake,  to  feed  upon  the  lilypads 
or  the  leaves  of  the  Nuphan  lutea,  which  here  abound.  A  no- 
ble-looking cariboo  suddenly  started  from  the  woods,  and  trotted 
quietly  along  the  shores  of  the  lake  quite  near  us,  but  we  were 
not  prepared  to  take  him,  and  he  presently  darted  into  the  forest 
and  disappeared. 

"  Our  provisions  having  been  reduced,  owing  to  the  circum- 
stance that  our  journey  proved  much  longer  than  wo  had  antici- 
pated, I  thought  it  necessary  to  put  the  whole  party  on  a  regu- 
lar allowance,  which  was  mutually  agreed  to.  Our  Indian, 
Neptune,  succeeded  in  catching  half  a  dozen  musquash,  which 
we  were  glad  to  share  with  him  and  a  few  trout  which  were 
also  taken,  and  served  to  save  a  portion  of  our  more  sul)s1antial 
food.  At  Pock-wock-amus  Falls,  where  the  river  ruslies  over  a 
ledge  of  granite,  large  trout  are  caught  abundantly,  and  we 
stopped  a  short  time  to  obtain  a  supply.     They  are  readily  takeu 


111 


1 


ill*! 


202 


KIVER    LIFE. 


with  a  common  fishing-hook  and  line,  haited  with  a  piece  of  pork, 
or  even  with  a  shp  ot"  paper,  which  is  to  be  trailed  over  the  sur- 
face of  the  water.  Some  of  the  trout  thus  cauglit  would  weigh 
from  three  and  a  half  to  four  pounds. 

"  On  the  22d  of  September  we  prepared  ourselves  for  ascend- 
ing the  mountain,  taking  with  us  our  tent,  a  few  cooking  uten- 
sils, and  all  the  food  remaining,  except  a  small  quantity  of  Indian 
corn  meal,  which  we  concealed  on  the  island  for  use  on  our  return. 

"Our  party,  all  clothed  in  red  flannel  shirts,  and  loaded  with 
our  various  equipments,  made  a  singular  appearance  as  we  land- 
ed on  the  ojjposite  shore  and  filed  into  the  woods. 

"  Having  reached  a  height  where  the  forest-trees  were  so  di- 
minutive that  we  could  not  camp  any  higher  up  for  want  of  fuel, 
we  pitched  our  tent.  This  place  is  about  half  way  up  the  mount- 
ain. From  it  we  have  an  extensive  view  of  the  surrounding 
country. 

"  Leaving  our  camp  on  the  mountain  side,  at  seven  A.M.  we 
set  out  for  the  summit  of  Ktaadn,  traveling  steadily  up  the  slide, 
clambering  over  loose  bowlders  of  granite,  trap,  and  graywacke, 
which  are  heaped  up  in  confusion  along  its  course.  We  at  length 
reached  a  place  where  it  was  dangerous  longer  to  walk  on  the 
loose  rocks,  and  passing  over  to  the  right-hand  side,  clambered  up 
among  the  dwarfish  bushes  J'.^a.t  cling  to  the  side  of  the  mountain. 

"  Two  of  our  party  became  discouraged  on  reaching  this  point, 
and  there  being  no  necessity  of  their  accompanying  us,  they  were 
allowed  to  return  to  camp.  The  remainder  of  our  ascent  was 
extremely  difficult,  and  required  no  small  perseverance.  Our  In- 
dian guide,  Louis,  placed  stones  along  the  path,  in  order  that  we 
might  more  readily  find  the  way  down  the  mountain,  and  the 
wisdom  of  this  precaution  was  fully  manifested  in  the  sequel. 
At  ten  A.M.  we  reached  the  table-land  which  forms  the  mount- 
ain's top,  and  ascends  gradually  to  the  central  peak.  Here  the 
wind,  and  driving  snow  and  hail,  rendered  it  almost  impossible  to 


n 


, 


RIVER    LIFR. 


203 


of  pork, 
the  sur- 
(1  weigh 

r  aseend- 
ng  uten- 
A'  Indian 
r  return, 
icd  with 
we  land- 

;re  so  di- 
t  of  fuel, 
e  mount- 
rounding 

A..M.  we 

le  slide, 
ywacke, 
it  length 
on  the 
jered  up 
ountain. 
is  point, 
ey  were 
nt  was 
Our  In- 
hat  we 
nd  the 
sequel, 
mount- 
ere  the 
sible  to 


proceed,  but  we  at  length  reached  the  central  peak.  The  true 
altitude  of  Mount  Ktaadn  above  the  level  of  the  sea  is  a  little 
more  than  one  mile  perpendicular  elevation.  It  is,  then,  evident- 
ly the  highest  point  in  the  State  of  Maine,  and  is  the  most  ab- 
rupt granite  mountain  in  New  England. 

"  Amid  a  furious  snow-storm,  we  set  out  on  our  return  from 
this  region  of  clouds  and  snow.  Louis  declared  that  Pomola  was 
angry  with  us  for  presuming  to  measure  the  height  of  the  mount- 
ain, and  thus  revenged  himself.  '  Descending,  we  had  nearly  gone 
astray,  and  might  have  descended  on  the  wrong  side,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  precautions  of  Louis  before  named.  Clouds  and 
darkness  hung  upon  the  mountain's  brow,  and  the  cold  blasts  al- 
most deprived  us  of  breath  Incrusted  with  snow,  we  carefully 
slid  upon  the  surface  of  the  rocks.'  '  We  tumbled  down  some  large 
blocks  of  granite,  that  descended  with  a  terrible  fracas,  dashing 
the  rocks  into  fragments  as  they  bounded  along.'  '  Our  party  en- 
camped upon  the  mountain  side,  and  passed  a  sleepless  night, 
without  food,  and  amid  a  driving  snow-storm.' 

"Early  next  morning  we  struck  our  tent  and  descended  the 
mountain,  but  so  enfeebled  had  we  become  by  hunger,  privations, 
and  fatigue,  that  it  was  Avith  difficulty  we  could  carry  ourselves 
and  burdens.  Every  now  and  then  our  knees  would  give  way 
beneath  us,  and  cause  us  to  fall  upon  the  ground.  When  we 
reached  the  base  of  the  mountain,  we  discovered  some  wild  choke- 
cherries  hanging  in  bunches  from  the  trees,  which  the  bears  had 
often  climbed  and  broken  for  the  fruit.  Felling  one  of  these 
cherry-trees,  we  ate  the  astringent  fruit,  and  were  in  some  meas- 
ure resuscitated  in  strength,  so  as  to  march  with  renewed  vig- 
or. A  bed  of  blueberries  also  presented  itself,  v  A  we  stopped  to 
dine  upon  them.  '  Proceeding  on,  we  met  two  of  our  company, 
who  had  passed  down  the  night  before,  who  had  cooked  all  the 
Indian  meal  that  we  left  at  our  old  camp  on  the  island,  and 
brought  the  cakes  for  our  relief.     On  our  way  down  the  river 


I 


*t;! 


m 


N 


i 


!     ji 


\ 


iT, 


N: ;; 


''}     ' 


204 


RTVEU    LIFE 


"we  fortunately  met  two  young  men  ascending  the  stream  in  a 
canoe  on  an  exploring  expedition,  we  induced  them  to  sell  us 
twenty  biscuits,  which,  being  two  to  a  man,  on  short  allowance, 
we  hoped  to  be  able  to  reach  Nickatow.  On  our  May  down  we 
met  another  crew,  who  supplied  us  with  the  necessary  rations  to 
Teach  Nickatow,  where,  on  our  arrival,  we  obtained  all  that  was 
necessary  lor  the  comfortable  prosecution  of  our  down-river  jour- 
ney.'" 

In  addition  to  the  natural  resources  of  the  Penobscot  for  lum- 
ber, several  toM'nships  of  good  timber  land,  formerly  claimed  by 
the  crown,  but  by  treaty  ceded  to  the  United  States,  have  be- 
come available  by  diverting  a  portion  of  the  head  waters  of  the 
St.  John's  River  into  the  channel  of  the  former,  on  the  west 
branch.  This  was  cflected  by  cutting  a  canal  from  a  lake  on  the 
St.  John's,  called  Zelos,  to  Webster  Lake,  on  the  Penobscot. 

Originally  the  canal  was  three  hundred  rods  long  by  four  wide, 
and  four  feet  deep  ;  but  the  strong  current  of  water  flowing 
through,  at  the  rate  of  one  mile  in  twenty  minutes,  has  changed 
the  regularity  of  the  channel  to  a  more  natural  and  stream-like 
appearance. 

By  this  hit  of  Yankee  enterprise,  the  timber  of  eight  townships, 
otherwise  and  necessarily  destined  for  the  provincial  market,  may 
be  brought  down  the  Penobscot,  the  aggregate  amount  of  which  is 
estimated,  by  the  best  judges,  at  five  hundred  millions  of  feet. 

This  has  succeeded  so  well,  that  further  surveys  have  been 
made  with  a  view  to  open  other  communications  between  the 
waters  in  the  same  region,  and,  if  the  expectations  of  those  in- 
terested in  this  matter  should  be  realized,  it  is  said  that  the  tim- 
ber of  some  thirty  townships  more  will  come  down  the  Penobscot 
River.* 

The  project  Oi  excavating  the  canal  allude  1  to  was  suggested 

*  Since  the  above  was  written,  fourteen  townships  more  have  become 
available. 


m  111  a 
sell  us 
)wance, 
3W11  we 
itions  to 
liat  was 
er  jour- 

for  lum- 
iincd  by 
avc  be- 
's  of  the 
he  Avcbt 
e  on  the 
;ot, 

ur  wide, 
flowing 
shangcd 
iam-hke 

'nships, 
let,  may 
^hich  is 
feet, 
e  been 
sen  the 
lose  in- 
ic  tim- 
Lobscot 


fgested 
Ibecome 


RIVER    LIFE. 


205 


i 


by  the  proximity  of  the  above-named  hikes,  and  the  remarkably 
favorable  position  of  the  strip  of  land  lying  between  them.  The 
direct  cause  of  its  being  carried  into  ell'eet  is  said  to  have  origin- 
ated in  consequence  of  the  levying  of  a  provincial  tax  on  lumber 
cut  and  run  down  the  St.  John's  by  Americans,  in  violation  of  an 
article  in  the  treaty  adopted  by  the  two  governments  in  the  re- 
cent settlement  of  the  boundary  between  Maine  and  New  Bruns- 
wick, 

The  specific  condition  in  the  treaty  thought  to  have  been  vio- 
lated is  this,  in  substance  :  All  timber  situated  on  land  ceded  to 
the  United  States,  which,  from  its  position,  imist  pass  down  the 
St.  John's,  ''shall  be  dealt  icilh  «.s  if  it  were  the  produce  of  lite 
said  province i"*  which  condition  on  the  part  of  Maine  was 
thought  to  imply  freedom  from  duty  or  taxation. 

*  Sec.  III.  Of  the  Treaty  hehcecn  the  States  and  Great  Britain,  1810. — In 
order  to  promote  the  interests  and  cnc<)nra<5e  the  industry  of  all  the  iuliiihit- 
ants  of  the  countries  watered  by  the  River  St.  Jolui's  and  its  tributaries, 
whether  hving  within  the  State  olMaine  or  the  province  of  New  Brunswick, 
it  is  agreed  tliat  wliere,  by  the  provisions  of  the  present  treaty,  the  River  St. 
John's  is  declared  to  be  the  line  of  boundaiy,  the  navigation  of  the  said  river 
shall  be  free  and  open  to  both  parties,  and  shall  in  no  way  be  obstructed  by 
either;  that  all  the  produce  of  the  forest  in  logs,  lumber,  timber,  boards, 
staves,  or  shingles,  or  of  agriculture,  not  being  manufactured,  grown  on  any 
of  those  parts  of  the  State  of  Maine  watered  by  the  River  St.  John's  or  by 
its  tributaries,  of  which  fact  reasonable  evidence  shall,  if  recjuiicd,  be  pro- 
duced, shall  have  free  access  into  and  through  the  said  river  and  its  said  tril)- 
utaries,  having  their  source  within  the  State  of  Maine,  to  and  from  the  sea- 
port at  the  mouth  of  the  River  St.  John's,  and  to  and  around  the  falls  of  the 
said  river,  either  by  boats,  rafts,  or  other  conveyance ;  that,  when  within  liio 
province  of  New  Brunswick,  the  said  produce  shall  be  dealt  with  as  if  it 
were  the  produce  of  the  said  province;  that,  in  like  manner,  the  inhabilanta 
of  the  territory  of  the  Ujjper  St.  John's,  determined  by  this  treaty  to  licloriq; 
to  her  Britannic  majesty,  shall  have  free  access  to  and  through  tin'  river  (or 
their  produce,  in  these  parts  where  the  said  river  runs  wholly  thioMuh  (Iio 
State  of  Maine:  Provided,  always,  That  this  agreement  shall  give  no  right  to 
either  party  to  interfere  with  any  regulations  nut  inconsistent  with  the  tcrixia 


i 


u 


I! 


t  ' 


■  I 


i 


\ 


I  i 


H 


u 


206 


RIVER    LIFE. 


Therefore,  in  order  to  obtain  some  tribute  (for  it  is,  indeed,  a 
trait  quite  promi/.:ent  in  the  character  of  John  Bull  to  expect  and 
demand  tribute),  a  duty  was  levied  upon  all  timber  nmniufr  down 
the  St.  John's,  whether  from  the  crown  lands  or  the  territory 
ceded  to  Maine.  And  the  crown,  in  order  to  satisfy  its  loyal 
subjects  for  this  new  requisition,  made  a  corresponding  discount 
on  the  stumpage  charged  those  hauling  timber  from  the  crown 
lands,  while  the  Yankees  were  left  without  indemnification. 

But  Brother  Jonathan  was  not  to  be  outgeneraled  by  this  man- 
euver, but  characteristically  "  gucssecV^  out  a  way  of  escape  ;  and 
not  only  thwarted  the  cunning  of  his  crafty  neighbor  in  this  mat- 
ter, but  actually  laid  his  dominions  under  tribute,  nolens  volcns, 
by  diverting  a  portion  of  the  waters  of  St.  John's  River,  bringing 
it  into  the  channel  of  the  Penobscot,  where  it  probably  runs  "  diUij 
free.''  While,  therefore,  the  Yankees  thus  resisted  the  attempt- 
ed encroachment,  we  doubt  not  but  they  secretly  render  a  "  trib- 
ute'' o^  thanks  for  the  provocation. 

The  Penobscot  is  not  so  likely  to  be  affected  by  destructive 
freshets  as  are  most  large  rivers  ;  for  instance,  the  Kennebeck, 
whose  accumulating  waters  rush  through  its  deeply-cut  channel 
with  tremendous  power,  carrying  all  before  it ;  and  for  this  rea- 
son the  former  runs  through  immense  tracts  of  low  intervale  lands, 
which,  in  time  of  abundant  rains,  act  as  vast  reservoirs,  receiv- 
ing and  scattering  the  surplus  water  over  thousands  of  acres. 
Nothing  is  likely  to  produce  disastrous  freshets,  except  such  as 
arise  from  unusual  causes  ;  and  as  such  a  combination  is  not  like- 
ly to  occur  once  in  a  century,  an  event  of  this  nature  is  not  often 
expected  nor  dreaded. 

The  Penobscot  has  two  principal  and  many  minor  branches  ; 
among  the  latter,  mention  may  be  made  of  "  Mataivamkcag,' 

of  the  treaty,  which  the  governments,  respectively,  of  Maine  or  of  New 
Brunswick  may  make  respecting  tlie  navigation  of  the  said  river,  where  both 
banks  thereof  shall  belong  to  the  same  party. 


indeed,  a 
tpect  and 
ing-  down 

territory 
its  loyal 

discount 
le  crown 
;ion. 

his  man- 
pe ;  and 
his  mat- 
5  volcns, 
bringing- 
3  ''duty 
ittempt- 
Si^'trid- 

tnictive 
nebeck, 
channel 
his  rea- 
e  lands, 
receiv- 
acres. 
iich  as 
ot  IJke- 
3t  often 


nches  ; 
kcas. 


^^> 


of  New 
sre  both 


If 

m 


1!  1 


« I 


i|l 


^i 


I' 


H^ 


■^1^ 


RIVKR    LIl'H. 


209 


C5 


.1?/ '/,  « 


H 
K 

\^ 

*■* 

(Hi 

O 

rff€  « 

f/  Lie  oj 

M 


M 

b. 
Q 
O 


I 


wliioli  "  ineaus  a  stream  ruiiuinf,'  over  a  gravelly  bod  ;"  and  tho 
*'  Piscatdf/nis,''  wliich  is  about  one  buiidrcd  iniles  in  Icnj^th,  aiul 
ibriiis  a  juiictioii  witb  the  main  river  some  tliirty  or  litrly  miles 
above  Baiip^or  ;  its  waters  are  clear  as  crystal,  and  tlie  current 
rapid.  Also  the  "  SrOoois,''  several  days'  Journey  iVom  the  mouth 
ol'  the  Matawamkeaf^.  SSoine  of  the  M'ildest  and  most  interesting 
Bcenery  in  the  state  occurs  on  this  river  and  on  the  lolly  mount- 
ains in  its  vicinity.  Godlrey's  Falls,  as  seen  in  tiie  opposite  cut, 
plunjre  around  the  base  of  hif^h  mountainous  banks  hundreds  of 
feet  above  the  wild  torrent  which  rushes  between  them.  These 
falls  arc  impassable,  and  wlien  boatmen  arrive  here  they  arc  com- 
pelled to  carry  their  eli'ects  and  boats  up  a  ledge  on  the  left  sido 
of  the  falls,  at  an  angle  of  lo^,  and  tlien  through  tlie  burned 
forest  for  the  distance  of  four  miles  before  again  attempting  to 
navigate  the  river. 

Not  less  than  fifty  mountains  and  seventeen  lakes  may  be  scon 
from  the  summit  of  Sugar-loaf  Mountain,  which  stands  a  littlo 
removed  from  the  shores  of  the  Seboois,  as  represented  in  the  cut 
at  the  end  of  this  chapter  ;  and  among  the  interesting  objects 
viewed  from  this  point  is  Chase  s  Mountain,  on  the  west  side  of 
the  Seboois,  very  peaked,  which  rises  like  a  vast  pyramid  from  tho 
dense  forest  country  around  it,  a  representation  of  which  may  be 
seen  on  page  211. 

There  arc  many  important  islands  in  the  Penobscot ;  several 
of  them  contain  many  hundred  acres  of  land.  Among  them  men- 
tion may  be  made  of"  0/ew?o?i,"  which  contains  some  three  hund- 
red acres  ;  likewise  "  Sugar  Island,"  of  corresponding  magnitude  ; 
•'  Orson  Island,"  twelve  hundred  acres  ;  "  Marsh  Island,"  five 
thousand  acres  ;  "  Oldtown,"  the  present  site  of  an  Indian  vil- 
lage, three  hundred  acres;  Orono,  one  hundred  and  fifty  acres. 
On  these  islands  are  several  flourishing  villages,  Oldtown,  Orono, 
and  Stillwater,  in  the  vicinity  of  which  are  the  principal  mill 
sites,  which  are  from  seven  to  fourteen  miles  above  Bangor. 


m 


1;! 


' 


210 


RIVKR  LIFE. 


H 


The  overwlu'liiiinf?  natastroplH'  wliirh  oocurrod  on  tliis  river 
in  the  s|»riii«!f  ol"  l^l()  will  lon^  be  reiiu'inlu'rcd  l)y  tlioMo  who 
vitiiesscd  it.  The  lollowiii^' graphic  aeeouut  of  this  (UH-urreiiee, 
from  llio  j)(Mi  ol'  Dr.  West,  was  published  ill  the  liaiigor  Courier, 
and  will  be  read  with  deep  interest : 

"  To  THE  Rev.  Dr.  Tyno,  New  York. 

"  R-everend  and  dear  Brother — We  liave  passed  through  a  scene 
within  the  last  two  or  three  days  which  will  deeply  interest  and 
impress  yon.  Our  city  has  met  with  a  calamity  unparalleled  in 
its  annals,  and  perhaps  unequaled,  in  proportion  to  its  j)oi)ulation 
and  means,  by  any  in  our  country.  We  have  been  inundated  by 
the  river  in  consequence  of  what  is  called  here  an  ice-jam.  Tlio 
history  of  the  matter  is  briefly  as  follows  : 

"  It  sometimes  happens  that  the  ice  in  the  river  breaks  up 
ahove,  while  it  remains  too  strong  at  the  outlet  to  admit  of  its 
passing  down.  The  consequence  is  the  accumulation  of  a  dam 
of  ice  which  completely  fills  the  river  from  bank  to  bank,  and 
heap?  up  sometimes  to  the  height  of  from  fifteen  to  thirty  feet, 
and  thus  forming  a  reservoir  of  water  above  it,  which  overllows 
the  banks  and  inundates  the  country  around. 

*'  The  present  winter  has  been  a  remarkable  one  in  the  mode 
of  the  formation  of  the  ice.  After  the  river  was  first  frozen  over, 
the  ice  continued  to  form  in  cakes  or  sheets,  and  to  ilov^  down 
the  rapids  to  the  still  and  frozen  portions,  and  these  were  drawn 
under.  This  continued  until  the  submerged  sheets  were  stopped 
by  rocks  or  shoals  ;  then  the  accumulation  went  on  until  the  bed 
of  the  river  became  consolidated  to  an  astonishing  thickness. 
Around  the  piers  of  our  great  bridge  it  was  cut  through  to  the 
depth  of  about  fourteen  feet.  Thus  the  entire  bed  of  the  river 
seemed  to  have  become,  at  least  except  the  channel,  an  almost 
solid  body  of  ice. 

•'  The  greatest  fears  were  entertained  throughout  the  winter 


i:« 


this  river 
.ho«e  wilt) 
ct'uiTcnco, 
)r  Cornier, 


inrh  a  scene 
lUTL'st  ami 
irulU'led  ill 
jiopuliitiou 
iiiuhiti'il  by 
jaiii.     Tlio 

breaks  up 
ulmit  of  its 
11  of  a  (lam 
\  bank,  and 

hirty  feet, 
overflows 

the  mode 
rozcn  over, 
llov  down 
-ere  drawn 
;re  stopped 
itil  the  bed 

thickness. 

ujjh  to  the 

the  river 

Ian  ahnost 

the  winter 


m.. 


'^ 


I' 


4'\ 


K. 


RIVER    LIFE. 


213 


? 


I 


for  the  consequences  during  the  spring  freshet,  and  yet  no  eflect- 
ual  precautions  could  be  taken  to  guard  against  impending  ca- 
lamity. The  very  worst  of  these  fears  have  now  been  more  than 
realized. 

"  A  few  days  ago  the  river  began  to  break  up  for  al>out  thirty 
miles  above  the  city,  while  it  continued  firmly  bound  for  about 
twelve  miles  below.  There  were  several  diliercnt  spots  where 
the  jams,  or  ice-dams  were  formed  ;  and  when  they  broke  away, 
they  came  rushing  down  with  the  force  of  a  mountain  torrent, 
until  the  strong  ice  below  resiit-ted  their  progress.  These  jams 
came  down  one  at  a  time,  and,  lodging  against  another  below, 
kept  increasing  their  magnitude.  The  two  most  formidable  jams 
were  within  seven  miles  of  the  city,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  two 
largest  and  most  important  ranges  of  saw-mills.  Those  which 
formed  above,  when  they  broke  away,  passed  through  at  Old- 
town  and  Stillwater  with  little  comparative  damage  other  than 
carrying  away  the  bridges,  and  adding  to  the  size  of  the  jams 
below. 

"  The  first  movement  was  the  raising  the  two  principal  ranges 
of  mills  from  their  foundations  by  the  rise  of  the  water.  After 
this  the  first  jam  that  passed  down  swept  away  the  Basin  mills, 
which  belong  to  a  New  York  company,  and  which  rented  for 
above  ten  thousand  dollars  per  annum.  They  next  carried  away 
a  large  range  of  mills  belonging  to  some  of  our  most  enterprising 
citizens,  and  which  rented  for  fifteen  thousand  dollars  per  annum. 
One  of  the  proprietors  thus  lost  about  fifty  thousand  dollars.  The 
mills  in  these  two  ranges  contained  about  fifty  saws,,  were  pos- 
sessed of  the  most  unfailing  water  power,  were  recently  fitted  up 
with  the  best  improved  machinery,  and  performed  last  year  about 
one  third  of  all  the  business  on  the  river. 

"  The  jams  thus  worked  their  way  down  gradually,  carrying 
destruction  to  bridges  and  small  houses,  and  other  buildings  on 
the  banks,  until  they  were  aU  concentrated  in  one  immense  mass 


l« 


• 


214 


RIVER    LIFE. 


f 

Hi' 


III 


it 
"1-    11, 


of  four  miles  in  length,  of  great  height  and  depth,  and  filling  the 
river,  which  varies  in  width  from  one  thousand  to  fifteen  thou- 
sand feet  from  bank  to  bank.  Of  the  magnitude  and  power  of 
such  a  mass,  no  just  conception  can  be  formed  by  persons  unused 
to  similar  scenes.  Above  the  jam  the  water  was  twenty  or  thirty 
feet  above  its  usual  height,  filling  up  the  rapids,  and  making  a 
dead  level  of  the  falls. 

"  The  first  injury  to  the  city  was  from  the  breaking  away  of  a 
small  section  of  the  jam,  which  came  down  and  pressed  against 
the  ice  on  our  banks.  By  this,  twenty  houses  in  one  immediate 
neighborhood,  on  the  west  bank  of  the  river  alone,  were  at  once 
inundated,  but  M'ithout  loss  of  life.  This  occurred  in  the  day- 
time, and  presented  a  scene  of  magnificent  interest.  The  eil'ect 
of  this  small  concussion  upon  the  ice  near  the  city  was  terrific. 
The  M'ater  rose  instantly  to  such  a  height  as  to  sweep  the  build- 
ings and  lumber  from  the  ends  of  the  wharves,  and  to  throw  up 
the  ice  in  huge  sheets  and  pyramids.  This  shock  was  resisted 
by  the  great  covered  bridge  on  the  Penobscot,  which  is  about  one 
thousand  feet  in  length,  and  this  gave  time  to  save  much  prop- 
erty from  impending  destruction.  But,  meanwhile,  another  aux- 
iliary to  the  fearful  work  had  been  preparing  by  the  breaking  up 
of  tho  ioe  in  the  Kenduskeag  River.  This  river  flows  through 
the  heart  of  the  city,  dividing  it  into  two  equal  portions.  The 
whole  flat  on  the  margin  of  the  river  is  covered  with  stores  and 
public  buildings,  and  is  the  place  of  merchandise  for  the  city. 
The  Kenduskeag  runs  nearly  at  right  angles  with  the  Penobscot 
at  the  point  where  they  unite.  The  Penobscot  skirts  the  city  on. 
the  eastern  side,  and  on  the  banks  of  this  river  are  the  principal 
wharves  for  the  deposit  of  lumber. 

"  I  must  mention  another  circumstance  to  give  you  a  just  idea 
of  our  situation.  There  is  a  narrow  spot  in  the  river,  about  a 
mile  below  the  city,  at  High  Head,  in  which  is  a  shoal,  and  from 
which  the  greatest  danger  of  a  jam  always  arises,  and  it  was  this 
that  caused  the  principal  inundation. 


RIVER    LIFE. 


215 


ling  the 
en  thou- 
lower  of 
3  unused 
or  thirty 
laking  a 

way  of  a 
[  against 
imodiate 
;  at  once 
the  day- 
he  eflcct 
>  terrific, 
he  bulld- 
hrow  up 
resisted 
bout  one 
ich  prop- 
ler  aux- 
ving  up 
hrough 
,     The 
ores  and 
le  city, 
enobscot 
city  on. 
Drincipal 

ust  idea 
about  a 
nd  from 
was  this 


I 


"  The  next  incident  occurred  at  midnight,  when  the  bells  were 
rung  to  announce  the  giving  way  of  the  ice.  It  was  a  fearful 
sound  and  scene.  The  streets  were  thronged  with  men,  women, 
and  children,  who  rushed  abroad  to  witness  the  approach  of  the 
icy  avalanche.  At  length  it  came  rushing  on  with  a  power  that 
a  thousand  locomotives  in  a  body  could  not  vie  with  ;  but  it  was 
vailed  from  the  eye  by  the  darkness  of  a  hazy  night,  and  the  ear 
only  could  trace  its  progress  by  the  sounds  of  crashing  buildings, 
lumber,  and  whatever  it  encountered  in  its  path-way,  except  the 
glimpses  that  could  be  caught  of  it  by  the  light  of  hundreds  of 
torches  and  lanterns  that  threw  their  glare  upon  the  misty  at- 
mosphere. The  jam  passed  on,  and  a  portion  of  it  pressed  through 
the  weakest  portion  of  the  great  bridge,  and  thus,  joining  the  ice 
below  the  bridge,  pressed  it  down  to  the  narrows  at  High  Head. 
Meanwhile  the  destruction  was  in  progress  on  the  Kenduskeag, 
which  poured  down  its  tributary  ice,  sweeping  mills,  bridges, 
shops,  and  other  buildings,  with  masses  of  logs  and  lumber,  to 
add  to  the  common  wreck. 

"  At  that  moment,  the  anxiety  and  suspense  were  fearful 
whether  the  jam  would  force  its  way  through  the  narrows,  or 
there  stop  and  pour  back  a  flood  of  waters  upon  the  city ;  for  it 
was  from  the  rise  of  the  water  consequent  upon  such  a  jam  that  the 
great  destruction  was  to  be  apprehended.  But  the  suspense  was 
soon  over.  A  cry  was  heard  from  the  dense  mass  of  citizens  who 
crowded  the  streets  on  the  flat,  '  The  river  is  flowing  back  I'  and 
so  sudden  was  the  revulsion,  that  it  required  the  utmost  speed  to 
escape  the  rising  waters.  It  seemed  but  a  moment  before  the 
entire  flat  was  deluged  ;  and  many  men  did  not  escape  from 
their  stores  before  the  water  was  up  to  their  waists.  Had  you 
witnessed  the  scene,  occurring  as  it  did  in  the  midst  .■>'  a  dark 
and  hazy  night,  and  had  you  heard  the  rushing  of  the  waters 
and  the  crash  of  the  ruins,  and  seen  the  multitudes  retreating  in 
a  mass  from  the  returning  flood,  illumined  only  by  the  glare  of 


!! 


)i  I 


U 


I 


#« 


216 


RIVER    LIFE. 


J    l!i 


torches  and  lanterns,  and  listened  to  the  shouts  and  cries  that 
escaped  from  them  to  give  the  alarm  to  those  beyond,  you  would 
not  be  surprised  at  my  being  reminded  of  the  host  of  Pharaoh  as 
they  fled  and  sent  up  their  cry  from  the  Red  Sea,  as  it  returned 
upon  them  in  its  strength. 

"  But  the  ruinous  consequences  were,  providentially,  the  loss 
of  property  rather  than  life.  The  whole  business  portion  of  the 
city  was  inundated  ;  and  so  entirely  beyond  all  reasonable  esti- 
mate was  the  rise  of  the  waters,  that  a  very  large  proportion  of 
all  the  stocks  of  goods  in  the  stores  were  flooded.  Precautions 
had  been  taken,  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  to  remove  goods 
from  the  first  to  the  second  story,  and  yet  many  who  did  so  had 
the  floors  of  the  second  story  burst  up,  and  their  goods  let  down 
into  the  waters  below ;  while  in  the  higher  portions,  where  the 
goods  were  piled  up  on  and  about  the  counters,  the  waters  rose 
above  them,  and  involved  them  in  a  common  destruction.  Oth- 
ers, who  did  not  remove  their  goods,  suffered  a  total  loss  of  them. 

"  Thus  far,  however,  the  devastation  was  confined  to  the  least 
valuable  part  of  the  wealth  of  the  city.  The  lumber  on  the 
wharves  constitutes  the  larger  portion  of  the  available  property 
of  the  city  ;  and  here  a  kind  Providence  has  spared  the  devoted 
city,  and  by  one  of  those  smgular  methods  by  which  a  present 
evil,  which  seems  to  be  the  greatest  that  could  bo  inflicted,  is 
the  means  of  averting  a  greater  one  ;  for  it  was  the  occurrence 
of  the  jam  which,  while  it  inundated  the  stores,  appeared  to  be 
the  means  of  saving  the  lumber.  The  pressure  of  the  ice  against 
the  wharves  and  lumber  was  so  great  as  to  wedge  it  in  with  im- 
mense strength,  and  formed  a  sort  of  wall  outside  the  wharves, 
from  which  the  jam,  when  it  started,  separated  and  passed  out, 
leaving  the  lumber  safe,  though  injured. 

"  After  the  ice  stopped,  things  remained  in  this  situation  dur- 
ing the  next  day,  which  was  Sunday  —  the  saddest  and  most 
serious  Sunday,  probably,  ever  passed  in  Bangor.     Few,  how- 


RIVER    LITE. 


217 


ries  that 

3u  would 

laraoh  as 

returned 

,  the  loss 
on  of  the 
ible  esti- 
lortion  of 
•ecautions 
3ve  goods 
lid  so  had 
let  down 
where  the 
'aters  rose 
ion.     0th- 
s  of  them. 
)  the  least 
)er  on  the 
e  property 
le  devoted 
a  present 
nflicted,  is 
)ccurrence 
ared  to  be 
ce  against 
I  with  im- 
wharves, 
lassed  out, 

lation  dur- 
and  most 
^ew,  how- 


ever, could  spend  the  day  in  worship.  All  that  could  hihor  were 
cni])loyo(l,  M'hilo  the  Hood  kept  rising,  in  rescuing  what  ])roperly 
could  be  saved  from  the  waters,  and  in  taking  poor  families  from 
their  windows  in  bouts. 

"  The  closing  scene  of  this  dreadful  disaster  occurred  on  f^un- 
day  evening,  beginning  at  about  seven  o'clock.  The  alarm  was 
again  rung  through  the  streets  that  the  jam  had  given  way.  The 
citizens  again  rushed  abroad  to  witness  what  ihey  knew  must  bo 
one  of  the  most  sublime  and  awlul  scenes  of  nature,  and  also  to 
learn  the  I'uil  extent  of  their  calamily.  Few,  however,  were 
able  to  catch  a  sight  of  the  breaking  up  of  the  jam,  which,  it>r 
magnitude,  it  is  certain,  has  not  occurred  on  this  river  ibr  more 
tlian  one  hundred  years.  The  whole  river  was  like  a  boihug 
cauldron,  w^itli  masses  of  ice  upheaved  as  by  a  voh'ano.  Jhit 
soon  the  darlaicss  shrouded  the  scene  in  part.  Tiie  ear,  lio  '  :- 
er,  could  hear  the  roaring  of  tlie  \vaters  and  tlie  crash  of  buihl- 
ings.  britlges,  and  lumber,  and  the  eye  could  trace  the  maumiotli 
iee-jam  ollbur  miles  long,  which  passed  on  majestically,  but  with 
lightning  rapidity,  bearing  the  contents  of  both  rivers  on  its  bo- 
som. The  noble  covered  bridge  of  the  Penobscot,  two  bridges  of 
the  Kenduskeag,  and  the  two  long  ranges  of  saw-mills,  besides 
other  mills,  houses,  shops,  logs,  and  lumber  enough  to  build  \ij)  a 
considerable  village.  The  new  market  floated  over  the  lower 
bridge  across  the  Kenduskeag,  a  part  of  which  remains,  and,  most 
ha})pily,  landed  at  a  point  of  the  wharves,  where  it  suidc,  and 
formed  the  nucleus  of  a  sort  of  boom,  which  stoj)])e(l  the  nuisses 
of  floating  lumber  in  the  Kenduskeag,  and  i)rotected  thousands  of 
dollars'  worth  of  lumber  on  the  wharves  below. 

"  So  suddenly  and  so  rapidly  was  all  this  enacted,  that  it  seems 
impossible  to  believe  it  to  have  occurred  without  loss  of  life.  Yet 
such  appears  to  be  the  happy  result.  Eumor,  indeed,  consigned 
many  to  a  watery  grave,  mIio  were  most  unexpectedly  preserved. 
There  were,  for  instance,  twenty  or  thirty  men  on  one  of  the 

K 


v\ 


218 


I 


'i  I 


I 


RIVER    LIFE. 


brid 


ridges  w 


hen  it 


)f  whom 


til 


g'avc  way,  some  ot  whom  jumped  into  iiie  wa- 
ter to  save  themselves,  but  none  were  lost.  A  raft  passed  down 
the  Keuduskeaj,^  with  tlirce  or  four  boys  upon  it,  and  they  were 
seen  floating  into  the  vortex  of  the  jam,  but  the  raft  passed  near 
enough  to  a  store  for  them  to  leap  from  it  to  a  platform,  and  thus 
they  saved  their  lives.  A  boat  also  was  crossing  the  river  when 
the  jam  started,  and  the  river  was  rushing  in  a  torrent,  but  they 
also  got  safe  to  land.  Many  sueh  hazards  occurred,  but  without 
the  loss  of  a  single  life. 

"  I  have  thus  given  you  a  very  hasty  and  unstudied  narrative 
of  this  severe  calamity,  as  I  have  gathered  it  before  any  account 
has  been  published.  I  have  no  time  or  space  for  reflections. 
There  are,  no  doubt,  many  wise  and  good  designs  to  be  accom- 
plished by  such  an  event,  which  will  readily  suggest  themselves 
to  every  Christian  mind.  The  present  state  of  our  churches  be- 
fore this,  I  think,  was  highly  promising,  and  the  presence  of  God's 
Holy  Spirit  manifest.  I  most  earnestly  pray  that  a  serious,  prac- 
tical, and  real  reformation  may  ensue. 

"  The  individual  losses  are  very  great.  Some  have  lost  their 
all,  and  many  from  five  to  fifty  thousand  dollars  each  ;  yet  the 
aggregate  will  be  swelled,  by  a  first  estimate,  far  beyond  its  real 
amount.  From  what  I  have  already  seen,  I  think  there  is  no 
reason  whatever  for  the  friends  of  Bangor  abroad  to  entertain  any 
distrust  respecting  its  recovery  and  progressive  prosperity.  Such 
a  buoyant  and  elastic  spirit  I  never  saw  in  man,  as  is  apparent 
to-day,  at  the  very  moment  when  men  usually  most  despond. 
There  is  no  such  thing  as  depression.  Despair  is  a  word  which 
the  active  and  laborious  merchants  of  this  city  do  not  know  the 
definition  of;  and  as  soon  as  time  can  enable  man  to  restore 
the  city  to  its  former  prosperity,  it  will  be  done.  My  prayer  is 
that  its  future  prosperity  may  be  tempered  by  a  more  sanctified 
spirit — that  the  hand  of  God  may  be  more  recognized — the  in- 
stitutions of  religion  more  generally  sustained — the  uncertainty 


Ik  u 


the  ^^•a- 
scd  down 
hey  were 
sscd  near 
,  arid  lhu3 
vcr  when 
,  but  they 
it  without 

narrative 
ny  account 
•ellectious. 
be  accom- 
themselves 
lurches  bc- 
ce  of  God's 
[rious,  prac- 

lost  their 
;  yet  the 

3iid  its  real 
icre  is  no 
ertain  any 
ty.     Such 

is  apparent 

st  despond, 
ord  which 
know  the 
to  restore 
y  prayer  is 

e  sanctiiled 
(1 — the  in- 
uncertainty 


,Vi 


RIVER    LIFE. 


210 


and  vanity  ol' worldly  popscsriions  more  (Iccply  realized,  and  that 
this  siuiii'arly  appro[)riate  antidote  to  ahold  and  Heaven-daring 
intemperance  may  dilute,  it' not  wash  it  entirely  away. 
"  Very  truly,  your  friend  and  brother, 

"  John  West. 
"Bangor,  Muiuo,  March  30, 18 lU." 

The  editor  of  the  Banpor  Courier,  in  some  cheerful  remarks 
n]»on  the  incidents  of  the  event,  observes : 

"  AVe  could  not  brinj^  ourselves  to  believe  that  the  market- 
house,  in  which  we  had  our  otlice,  would  be  removed.  We  were 
induced  to  move  our  materials  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  friends, 
and  under  their  strouf^  advice.  We  felt  all  the  while  as  thou<,fh 
the  alarm  would  soon  be  over,  and  labor  resumed  in  the  old  preirr- 
ises,  and  therefore  a  clumsy  article  here  aird  another  there  were 
left,  until  the  value  of  the  agji^rcgate  was  about  two  hundred  dol- 
lars, the  removal  of  which  we  thought  we  had  wisely  avoided. 
The  market  moved  oli"  majestically,  but  with  gentle  dalliance, 
until  it  plunged  forward  from  the  bridge  into  the  fast  receding 
eirrrent  of  the  stream,  when  it  righted  with  a  ship-like  proj)riety, 
bearing  aloft  a  beautiful  flag-staff — enrblem  of  Liberty,  erected  in 
honor  of  Henry  Clay,  the  beloved  and  whole-hearted  patriot  and 
orator,  who  in  private  station  receives  the  highest  attentions  and 
sirrcerest  regards  of  the  American  people — and  sped  its  way  on- 
ward to  the  ocean,  until  happily  bethinkiirg  how  many  little  ar- 
ticles it  contained  which  would  be  so  missed  and  mourned,  that 
it  settled  down  with  a  determination  to  proceed  no  further.  We 
visited  the  wreck  in  the  evening,  and,  fearing  it  might  prove  our 
last,  we  bore  away  several  pamphlets  and  documents  as  prizes. 
At  an  early  hour  yesterday  morning  we  paid  it  another  visit, 
when,  in  company  with  our  office  hands,  and  the  kind  help  and 
timely  suggestions  of  personal  friends  and  a  few  strangers,  we 
Bucceeded  in  securing  every  article  of  value.     There  happened  to 


;l  i 


220 


RIVKR    LITR. 


1    i 


i- 


be  Olio  case  oi'lyjie  lei't  iu  one  ol"  llie  racks  wliicli  had  liddcii  out 
the  perils  and  roii«;hiiess  ol'  the  voyn^z'e  without  spiUiiiir  a  type. 

"  It  may  be  a  little  taiiciliil,  perhajjs,  but  there  seems  to  he  an 
increased  value  iu  these  articles  which  have  oiu-e  slij)[)e(l  from 
us,  made  the  voya^'e  of  the  stream,  and  are,  at  Iciiirth,  so  luiex- 
pcctedly  .'uul  singularly  recovered.  One  of  our  citizens — a  Ken- 
iieheckcr,  by-the-way — was  i>articularly  zealous  iu  stivin*^  the 
W'hi^^  Ihif^-stair,  declaring  it  should  long  remain  to  bear  alol't  the 
ilag  oi"  Ireemeu. 

"The  Avhole  river  seems  to  have  been  an  entire  mass  oi' ice, 
partly  solid  and  partly  ])orous.  The  svulden  rise  ot"  the  river  ex- 
cited alarm,  and  its  sudden  subsidence,  at  the  rate  oi"  about  two 
feet  a  minute,  caused  astonishment. 

"There  is  in  the  U])per  side,  and  near  the  middle  of  Exchange 
street,  a  large  cake  of  ice  more  than  live  feet  thick.  On  Broad 
street  there  are  ice-balls  tM'enty-five  i'eet  in  diameter,  and  scat- 
tered about  in  every  direction  iirc  tliousands  of  smaller  masses. 

"It  will  be  difficult  for  people  who  did  not  witness  it  to  real- 
ize that  all  the  business  part  of  the  city  was  a  pool  in  which 
large  vessels  might  sail — that  Exchange  street,  and  ]\Iaiu  street, 
and  others  lower  down,  Avere  deep  canals  for  half  their  length, 
and  that  Central  street  was  a  running  river.  But  such  things 
were,  and  hundreds  of  stores  were  under  Avater  I  Boats  were  iu 
requisition,  and  various  contrivances  were  resorted  to  iu  the  ef- 
fort to  turn  an  honest  penny.  Among  them  we  noticed  one  fel- 
low had  taken  the  Wall  street  sign,  and  fastened  it  upon  the  stern 
of  his  boat,  in  order  to  popidarize  his  boat  and  route.  The  scene 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  steam-boat  wharf  or  at  the  Rose  Place  is 
truly  astonishing — such  heaps  of  ice  thrown  in  wild  confusion, 
furnishing  a  capital  idea  of  icebergs  from  the  Northern  Ocean. 
We  advise  our  friends  to  visit  these  places,  and  to  gather  in  some 
idea  of  the  mighty  power  of  the  Hood  and  of  the  process  of  making 
ice  moimtaius. 


It 


RIVKIl    LIFE. 


221 


iddcii  out 

a  typo. 

to  bo  ail 
peel  i'roia 

HO   llllC'X- 

— a  Ken- 

;iviu«2;    tllO 

•  aiult  tliG 

iss  of  ice, 
!  river  ex- 
xhoni  two 

Excliaiigo 
Oil  Broad 
and  seat- 

niasses. 
it  to  rcnl- 

iii  which 
aiu  si  root, 
L;ir  k'Hirth, 
ich  tilings 

3  were  ill 
ill  the  cf- 
ed  one  fel- 

thc  stern 
The  scene 
e  Place  is 

conl'nsion, 
n  Ocean, 
er  in  some 

of  making 


1 


.'r 


"It  is  quile  W(Mi(1erfiil,  {'oiisideriiiLr  tl;e  suddeiiiicss  and  evleiit 
of  lh(?  rise  of  llie  waU-r,  that  no  more  lives  Mere  lost,  in  this  vi- 
t'iiuly.  Tliei'e  wwc  some  families  in  "^reat  peril.  A  family  liv- 
ing at  the  I'oiiil,  lietvvi'eii  Ih'ewer  village  and  the  river,  were 
alarmed  by  the  ap]troaeh  of  the  Hood,  and  started,  several  women 
in  the  number,  for  higher  land  in  the  vieiiiity,  but,  before  reacdi- 
iiig  it,  the  watei'  was  np  to  their  armpits.  They  reached  what 
was  then  an  i.-land,  and  were  counielled  to  remain  during  tlie 
night.  A  family  living  near  Crosby's  ship-yard  conhl  not  eseaj)e, 
and  weie  talien  oil"  in  a  boat  by  one  of  the  neighbors. 

"Twenty  women  and  children,  as  the  water  Uovved  over  the 
plain  at  lirewer,  lied  to  a  school-house,  but  could  not  return,  and 
were  obliged  to  go  back  npon  the  hills  and  remain  until  the 
water  subsided. 

"General  Miller,  at  the  post-olTice,  witli  his  clerks,  had  a  ctxd 
time  of  it.  They  M'ere  all  at  work,  when  the  ih)od  suddenly  came 
Ujion  tlunu,  and  lllled  the  oihcc  to  the  depth  of  four  feet.  The 
general  started,  and  held  the  door  for  the  clerks  to  dodge  out  and 
escape  ii])  stairs  ;  but  Calvin  lingered  behind  for  some  minutes, 
when  the  general  called  loudly  to  know  what  detained  him. 

" '  Oh,'  said  he,  wading  along  with  the  water  up  to  his  arm- 
pits, 'I  stopped  for  the  purpose  of  stamping  these  paid  letters,'  at 
the  same  time  holding  up  a  bundle. 

"AVo  are  happy  to  add  that  Calvin  remains  per^^'ctly  cool,  and 
that  in  three  hours  after  getting  into  the  old  oil'irc  yesterday 
morning,  every  thing  was  cleaned  up  and  business  going  on  as 
usual. 

"The  actual  amount  of  property  lost  in  the  city  by  this  flood 
is  estimated  by  pretty  good  judges  at  between  two  and  three 
liundred  thousand  dollars.  This  falls  severely  upon  some  of  our 
citizens,  but  the  heaviest  losses  come  upon  those  able  to  ride  out 
tlie  storm." 

But,  notwithstanding  the  severity  of  this  visitation,  few  traces 


■  ?A 


1^ 


II 


RIVKR    T.FFR. 


.arc  li'lt  to  (leiiotc  it,  at  least  to  irn})ros.s  the  straujrer'.s  mind. 
Bri(l«i:t'H  liavc!  hreii  rc-ercctod,  daniairos  repaired,  and  llie  Liisiiiess 
coniniuuit y  liave  risen  IVom  under  it  willi  the  eiastieity  oi"  a  sap- 
lin',''  (»ak  alVer  tlie  tempest  has  overpast. 

Jk'tween  Jifty  and  .sixty  .«aws  were  swept  away,  wliieh  liavc 
not  yet  (181s)  been  replaced. 

The  following  table,  showinfr  the  condition  of  the  Inrnher  man- 
ufacture and  trade  on  the  Penobscot,  has  been  obtained  from  the 
most  reliable  sources  of  infornuition,  and  is  presented  for  the  in- 
spection of  those  interested  in  such  matters. 

Number  of  saw-mills  on  the  I'enohscot  and  tributaries,  240. 
"  clap-board  machines,  20. 
"  lath  machines,  200. 

Amount  of  long  lumber  sawed  annually,*  200,000,000  feet,  at 
$10.00  per  ill. 

Amount  of  laths  sawed  annually,  400,000,000  pieces,  at  $1.00 
per  M. 

Amount  of  clap-boards  sawed  annually,  5,500,000  pieces,  at 
$18.00  per  M. 

Amount  of  shinglesf  sawed  and  split  annually,  110,000,000 
pi  c;es,  at  $2.50  per  M. 

Amount  of  pickets^  sawed  annually,  10,000,000  pieces,  at 
$6.50  per  M. 

The  number  of  men,  oxen,  and  horses  employed  directly  and 
indirectly  on  this  river  alone,  would  not  vary,  probably,  much 
from  twenty  thousand.  § 

*  The  amount  varies  from  year  to  year,  sometimes  exceeding,  and  then 
again  iklling  short  of  the  anu)unt  above  stated. 


t  Sawed  on  the  river  and  from  the  country. 

X  There  are  various  other  kinds  of  short  lumber,  such  as  staves,  sash  and 
window-blind  stuff,  not  enumerated. 

$  The  author,  in  preparing  the  above  statement,  has  availed  himself  of  the 
most  reliable  sources  of  information,  and  would  particularly  mention  the  fol- 
lowing gentlemen,  to  whose  intelligence  and  kindness  he  is  particulai-ly  obli- 


i 


'*i 


' 


lUVKR    I.U'R. 


•'s   iniiul. 

liiisiiiess 

oi'  a  sup- 

icli  liavo 

her  inau- 
iVoiu  the 
)!•  the  iii- 

s,  240. 


10  feet,  at 

at  $1.00 

pieces,  at 

», 000, 000 

licccs,  at 

•ectly  and 
)ly,  much 

f,  and  then 

s,  sash  and 

nself  of  ihe 
ion  iho  fol- 
•ulai'ly  obli- 


9 


• 


The  reader  may  iiKjiiire  M'ilh  -somo  curiof-ity,  "  Wliere  does  all 
this  lumber  liiul  a  market?"  AN*'  may  remind  sueli  tl.it  Maine 
has  liirni.shed,  in  times  past,  the  piiiieipal  part  ol"  tlie  lumber  con- 
Buiued  in  llie  United  JStates  and  tiie  West  India  Islands,  though 
oilier  slates  in  the  Union  })0(^sess  iimnense  tracts  ot  Jino  timber 
land,  which,  as  the  lumbering  interests  of  Maine  diminish,  will 
be  cut  and  brouf,dit  into  market,  liideed,  such  movements  have 
already  become  quite  connnon  in  the  western  part  of  the  State 
of  New  York,  aud  also  in  Pennsylvania  and  Georgia,  as  well  as 
in  other  ])ortioiis  of  the  country  where  there  are  large  tr.acts  of 
timber  land,  much  of  which  has  already  been  bought  up  by  East- 
ern lumbermen. 

In  regard  to  the  consumption  of  lumber,  we  may  observe  that 
the  island  of  Cuba  alone  consumes  forty  millions  of  feet  per  an- 
num for  the  one  article  of  sugar-boxes.  The  city  of  Boston  is 
supposed  to  make  use  of  the  same  amount  per  annum  for  build- 
ing and  cabinet  purposes. 

Persons  unacquainted  with  the  resources  of  the  Penobscot  are 
continually  anticipating  a  decrease  in  the  amount  of  limiber  from 
the  great  tribute  under  which  our  forests  have  been  already  laid  ; 
but  those  who  are  best  qualified  to  judge  estimate  that  there  is 
now  timber  enough  standing  in  the  forests,  on  territories  through 
which  the  waters  of  the  Penobscot  pa.-s,  to  maintain  the  present 
annual  operations,  vast  as  they  arc,  for  fifty  successive  years,  aft- 
er which  it  is  thought  the  amount  will  diminish  about  o?ie  tenth 
per  annum  until  its  final  consumption,  when,  doubtless,  the  pur- 
suits of  the  lumbermen  will  give  place  to  the  labors  and  rewards 
of  husbandry,  and  to  the  working  of  the  various  veins  of  mineral 
deposits  already  known  and  yet  to  be  discovered. 

A  period  not  as  long,  probably,  as  from  the  landing  of  the  Pil- 

gatcd  :  Mr.  S.  Hai-ris,  of  the  surveynr  general's  office  ;  Rufus  Dwinel,  Esq., 
and  Mr.  Taylor,  of  Bangor;  also  A.  W.  Bubcock,  Esq.,  and  several  other  gen- 
tlemen of  Orouo. 


!    I 


KivKK  urn. 


^M-iiiis  ;it  I'lyiiKiiilli  to  llif  |trcs<'iil  tiiin',  will  lr;iii.-|Mn\  rro  llio 
|()M-i_r('is'  caiiii)  will  </A\r  |)liii'<'  In  llif  lai'iii-lioiisc,  Jiiid  L;iiM«'a  Tk'M.s 
dl"  \\';iviii<;  ^Tiiiii  rclii'vc  the  siiii-liid  rarlli  <>1  llio  {.ngiuilif  liiit.'.-L.s 
BO  ioii^''  clu'rislu'd  upon  \[^  laboriiij^  bosom. 

We  ('.'III  si'fiii  1o  look  tliroii^^li  lilt'  Inllowinir  proplicllir  vcrsr;  a« 
;i  iiiauic  spy-nliiss,  Miiicli  dispels  /////r  as  wtdl  as  space,  and  suo 
llio  rcalily  it  jtoiiits  out  pass  vividly  Itd'ori'  llic  iiiiagiiialiou. 
"  i<i)iid  lichiiid  US  ^Tow  llif  luiiiiimrs 
1)1'  tlir  ny[c  In  ciiiiic, 
Claii^  nf  smillis  and  In-iid  nl"  tarimn's, 

Hcii'iii^  liiirvt.'sls  lioiiii' ! 
licit'  lirr  virgin  liij*  with  treasures 

Nli;il!  the  ^'rci'ii  fuitli  lill, 
Wiiviiii,'  wheal  and  i^ohh-ii  iiiai/,»'-(;ai'.s 
Crown  cacli  brcchun  hill." 

Tho  reader  may  he  asked,  in  conelnsioii,  lo  estimate  the  re- 
snlts  of  Jil'ly  years'  limdierin<r  on  the  I'enidiseol.  W  hat  :i  va-L 
revenue,  in  addition  to  the  a^rieiiltiiral  interests  of  the  eoiitiirn- 
ons  conntry  I  \\  hen  we  h)ok  to  l>an;i(»r,  .-o  iavoiahly  h'-ated  at 
the  head  of  navi^iation,  the  <ri'and  eenler  ol  all  these  !.■>■. it  inli-r- 
cstB,  it  M'ould  seem  not  irrational  to  predict  for  it  a  ^lorious  ca- 
reer in  ^xntwtli,  Avealtii,  and  imjiortanee,  nor  impndjahl  ■  that  the 
same  may  he  inJIy  realized.  She  is  surrounded  hy  lesoiirees  of 
Avealth  altojrether  beyond  any  other  town  or  city  in  the  .<t;ite,  of 
which  neither  her  eiti/ens,  with  nil  their  foresight,  iior  capitai- 
ist.s,  seem  to  be  fnlly  aware. 

Of  one  <ireat  disadvantajrc.  which  must  retard  lier  profrress, 
mention  may  be  made,  viz.,  ea])italists  ((.broad  own  too  mii(di  of 
the  territory  on  her  river.  A  jiulicions  ])olicy  in  business  must 
l)e  sli-adily  pursued,  else  slie  may  only  prove  the  mere  otdlvt 
throuirh  M'hich  the  wealth  of  her  territory  .shall  pass  to  other 
liands,  leavin<^  her  \vith  the  hitter  inheritanee  of  one  dav  hecom- 
in<(  posses,«ed  of  the  knowledge,  when  too  late,  of  what  she  inii'Mt 
huL'c  bccd. 


« 


I'll  lii'l.Ls 

vers*!  lis 
;iii(l  SCO 
Liuu. 


(•   the   rt'- 
i;il   :i  va>t 

I-    Cdllt  lli'll- 

<-;itt'(l  al 
at  iiilfi-- 
I'idtis  ca- 
jliat.  tlio 
iiirci'S  ut 
?; title,  oT 
r  cLipitui- 

UUlt'll  nt 

K'ss  must 

■ro  I) a  I  let 

1()  (ither 

IV  ItccdUl- 


r. 
t.' 

c 

c 


I 

f/ 
r: 

r. 

c 

'^ 

c 
r; 

H 

6 


E 


^11 


Rl\  r.ll     MIT,. 


OTFArTKR   V. 

liPuplli  of  Ivf'tmrlx'cU. — ]\loosf>-l)<'!i(l  l,i»ko — llM  |ti>(<i1inr  Slinpo — T(s  Tulmuln. 
— HuriH'd  .liuki'l. — Int«>n'Hliiip  Deposit. — Muimt  Kiin'o. — Tin'  I'ronpiM-l 
fnun  its  Hiimiiiit.  —  Mons<>  Hivrr. — Old  Iiidijui. — 'I'lii  I5:»nk«  of  llip  Kimmio- 
l)('('k. — niv'uitirn  of  |Im»  Coniilry.  iSicr. — Lnml>or  oji  Uciid  Hivrr. — VnWn  iif 
WattTvillc. —  Skowlicgan  I'iills. — -Arnold's  I'.nramptiKMif . —  Niui-lau-clni- 
wak. —  (^aritunk  Kails.  —  T.uiidxT.  —  Statist ii's.  —  Author's  AcknowlcdL;- 
inoiits. — Aiidroscof^^iii — Courso  and  otlior  IN'onliaritics. — A  (|nnslion  of 
JJivaln.  —  Water  1'o\v«m*. — Oiif^inal  Indications. — Intorcsting  iSkotcli  of 
Kuniford  Falls.  —  I'.stiniatrd  Walor  I'ovvof. — l,innl»<'r  Statistics. — Orciuplils 
and  I'fosliots. — I'lnltagoff  Lake. — Tlio  siMppnlino  IMc^alloway. — Gmnito 
Mountains. — noautiful  I'oliai^o. — Honiantic  Kalis, — Cliaractrr  of  Country. 
— Mannor  of  I,ifo  in  LofX-cultinir.  »K  c. — Statistics.  \-c.  —  I'rosutnpscot  Itiv- 
rr,  (^rcal  Wutcr-powcrs  of. — Wartntli  of  \Vat(>r. — Statislicul  Koumrks. — 
t^aco  Uivor. 

Tm:  l)o;nilirnl  Komicltork  lio.-^  nboni  sixly  miles  ucst  of  tlio 
roiioli.'^cot  Kivor.  riiimiiifx  i'vnn  iiorlli  1o  south,  n<\tily  ]»;ir;iIlol 
willi  tlio  Inllor,  <M)iistittiliii«j^  oimmM  tliuso  /::r(\"il.  inarlvs  of  dosi^iia- 
lioii  -wliicli  (livido  llic  s1;ito  loiifrihidiiinlly  into  lliroo  siM'tiotis 
Fotith  ol"  tlic  lOth  dogrcc  of  iioiili  liitiUido  U)  tho  soa-coiist  iiiclii- 
sivo. 

Tlio  KfimolxM'k  \n\\on  its  ri.«o  in  1li(»  .^Joiitliwppf  ."prtion  ori\Too.'?o- 
lio.'ul  li.ako  (aocordiiio;  to  Mitcliol'H  yVtla,''),  so  callod,  pfohaldy, 
IVoni  llio  near  rosouihlaiico  it,  has.  with  it.s  iiiiinpvons  rovo.s.  arms, 
and  hays,  to  tlio  hraiu'hy  liorns  cd"  tho  moose.  7\h  laid  down  on 
Homo  ma])s,  partictilarly  on  tho  map  <d'  tho  ICastiTti  States  in 
Smith's  Atlas,  pnhlished  hy  ,1.  I'aiiie.  of  11  at  t  ford,  if  re(mirea  htit, 
n,  small  exereise  of  the  imaiiitiation  to  see  in  its  outlines  th(»  foriri 
of  an  inuiiense  animal,  making  tin*  portaire  iVotn  the  motith  ol  tlin 
St .  Tiawreneo  to  the  Atlantie  Ocean  with  rearful  strides  of  fiftt'oii 
miles  e;ieh.     Tho  ligiiro  of  the  lake,  as  laid  down  on  Mitoliers 


i  . 


'II 


I) 
ti  4 


I 


niVKR    LIFE. 


View  of  Lily  Bay,  on  Moosc-hend  Lake. 

maps,  coiTCfjponds  more  exaelly  with  the  hvanchirij^"  appearance 
of  a  moose  horn.  "  Its  whole  extent,  from  north  to  south,  is  ahout 
forty  mik'S,  and  varies  in  width  from  one  to  eiii^ht  miles,  and  very 
irreonlar  a  shape,  owino;  to  its  deep  coves,  bays,  and  islands, 
■which  in  some  parts  almost  fill  the  lake.  Many  of  these  islands 
are  mere  ledpcs  of  slate,  covered  with  n.  scanty  rrrowth  of  cedar 
and  fir,  risinf*-  ])erpendicularly  from  the  surlace  of  the  water, 
which  fall  suddenly  to  a  f^reat  depth  hy  their  sides.  Others  are 
larn:e  islands  of  many  acres,  well  wooded,  and  bordered  by  beach- 
es of  sand,  as  well  as  by  ledfres  of  rock.  Chi  the  eastern  side,  a 
few  miles  from  the  foot  of  the  lake,  rises  a  high  rocky  point, 
called  Burned  Jacket.  It  is  composed  of  gneiss,  curiously  crossed 
in  every  direction  by  veins  of  quartz.  Its  cides  are  covered  with 
huge  blocks  of  gneiss  which  have  fallen  from  the  top,  forming 
long  dens  and  passages  between  them.  On  a  small,  low  island, 
northwest  from  Moose  Island,  I  found  the  beach  almost  covered 
"with  fine  black  ferruginous  sand.     It  is  the  common  black  sand 


^^ 

^^w^ 

.-.=^__-^-^--== 

ti^-  -  _T  ~'^:: 

rra?c-l.  -r-^ 

z-  ' 

-^^-^^--^-^.r= 



-- 

pearance 
I,  is  ahout 
and  very 
I  islands, 
sc  islands 
of  cedar 
0  water, 
tlicrs  arc 
)y  Lcacli- 
rn  side,  a 
ky  point, 
y  crossed 
iLU-ed  with 
,  forminf^ 
w  island, 
t  covered 
lack  sand 


UIVKR    LIFK. 


229 


3 


nsed  in  writinj,^.  It  lies  upon  and  in  a  strata  M'itli  the  yellow 
Leach  sand,  and  may  be  collected  in  <^reat  abundance.  Such 
sand  is  connnonly  sold,  whcii  put  up  in  pound  papers,  at  six  cents 
each.  To  obtain  larjT'e  quantities,  it  might  be  scooped  u[)  with 
shovels,  and  afterward  separated  irom  the  yeUow  sand  by  power- 
ful magnets."  Take  your  knife-blade,  when  charged  with  the 
magnet,  and  inmierse  it  in  your  sand-box,  and  quantities  will  ad- 
here to  it,  leavhig  whatever  is  foreign  to  itself.  "Mount  Kineo, 
to  which  allusion  has  already  been  made,  has  the  aj)pearance  of 
a  huge  artificial  wall  of  stone  rising  directly  out  of  the  water  on 
the  eastern  side  of  the  hike,  opposite  the  mouth  of  Moose  lliver." 
"  We  ])addled  under  it,s  chlis,  Avhich  jutted  out  over  our  heads  at 
a  height  of  five  or  six  hundred  feet.  Below,  they  descend  perpen- 
dicularly ninety  feet.  The  northern  and  western  sides  are  cov- 
ered with  trees,  and  slope  so  that  one  can  reach  the  toj)  by  a  path 
along  the  edge  of  the  precipice.  From  its  summit  is  enjoyed  a 
beautiful  prospect  of  tlie  lake,  with  its  islands,  and  of  the  adjoin- 
ing country,  forming  a  most  picturesque  landscajic.  The  coun- 
try, to  the  northward  and  westward,  is  generally  low.  Moose 
lliver  is  seen  making  its  way  through  it,  and  finally  emptying 
into  the  lake  on  the  opposite  side.  To  the  eastward  the  country 
is  more  hilly,  until  the  view  is  lost  among  the  mountains  of  the 
Ktaadn  group.  On  looking  down  from  the  edge  of  the  preiu- 
pice,  we  see  the  water  directly  beneath  ;  and  so  steep  and  over- 
hanging is  the  rock,  that  by  a  single  leap  one  might  throw  him- 
self from  almost  the  highest  pouit,  and  strike  the  M'ater  six  hund- 
red feet  below,  and  many  feet  distant  from  the  base  of  the  mount- 
ain. Mount  Kineo  receives  its  name  from  that  of  an  old  Indian 
who  formerly  lived  and  hunted  in  its  vicinity." 

The  most  striking  feature  of  the  Kenncbeck  is  derived  from  the 
well-cultivated  and  beautiful  country  through  which  its  waters 
flow.  "From  Anson  to  Bath,"  a  distance  of  about  eighty  miles, 
it  passes  through  a  particidarly  well-cultivated  section,  present- 


:  )| 


J  tl 


'iiiLij  .itatasm 


230 


RIVER    LIFE. 


iiig  an  extent  of  territory  probably  under  a  higher  state  of  culti- 
vation than  any  other  division  of  the  state. 

To  use  the  complimentary  and  probably  truthful  remarks  of  a 
gentleman  long  a  resident  at  the  cai)ital,  Augusta,  "  No  river  in 
the  United  States,  within  the  same  distance,  can  be  found  with 
more  pleasant  and  delightlul  scenery,  more  beautiful  villages,  or 
a  more  thriving  population."  "  The  principal  business  places  on 
its  banks  are,  beginning  at  its  mouth,  Bath,  Richmond,  Gardiner, 
Pittston,  Hallowell,  Augusta,  Waterville,  Fairfield,  Bloomfield, 
Millburn,  Norridgewock,  and  Anson.  Bath  has  long  been  known 
for  its  ship-building,  having  furnished  many  of  the  finest  ships 
engaged  in  our  European  trade.  Richmond,  Gardiner,  Pittston, 
and  some  other  towns  on  the  river,  have  also  built  many  fine  ves- 
sels. From  Merry-meeting  Bay  (the  confluence  of  the  Kenne- 
beck  and  Androscoggin  from  the  west)  to  the  Dead  River  is  a 
fine  farming  country,  while  the  lumbering  region  on  the  Kenne- 
beck,  for  the  most  part,  extends  northward  to  the  lake,  around  it 
and  its  tributaries,  and  at  the  Dead  River.  Formerly  a  consid- 
erable quantity  of  lumber  was  cut  on  the  Sebasticook ;  but  now 
the  quantity  is  very  much  diminished,  owing  to  the  scarcity  of 
logs  on  that  river." 

There  are  several  noted  falls  on  the  river ;  the  ^rst  is  at 
Waterville.  "  The  Keimebeck  River  is  there  observed  rushing 
through  a  breach  which  has  been  formed  by  the  disruption  of 
stratified  argillaceous  slate."  "  The  fall  of  water  is  from  a  ledge 
of  these  rocks,  and  varies  from  eighteen  to  twenty  feet,  accord- 
ing to  the  state  of  the  river." 

The  next  considerable  fall  on  the  river  is  at  Skowhegan,  **  pro- 
duced by  the  falling  of  the  Kennebeck  over  a  rocky  ledge  to  the 
distance  of  from  ten  to  twelve  feet.  During  the  fatal  campaign 
of  Arnold,  his  army  encamped  upon  an  island  near  the  falls,  and 
occasionally  relics  of  the  encampment  are  now  found,  such  as 
pipes,  coins,  &c." 


^ 


■•i 
I 


RIVER    LIFE. 


031 


Skowhegan  b'aUa,  on  the  Keiuicbeck. 


At  Norrldf^cwock  the  Kcnncbcck  plunges  about  ten  feet  over 
ledrres  of  hard  nrpfiUaceous  slate,  which  constitute  auotlier  step 
in  the  series  ol  atches  over  Avhich  the  river  passes,  seckinfr-  its 
home  and  level  in  the  bosom  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  Nau-lau- 
chu-wak  is  said  to  be  the  ori^^inal  and  true  Indian  ortho<^va})hy, 
the  sense  of  which  is  this  :  these  falls,  or  this  place,  is  the  only 
obstruction  to  navif^ation. 

At  Caritunk  Falls,  still  further  up  river,  and  half  a  mile  from 
Solon  villaf^e,  "  the  Kcnncbcck  dashes  over  hard  quartz  rock  and 
mica  slate  ledges,  which  run  northeast,  southwest,  and  dip  north- 
west GO^.  Measured  barometrically,  the  fall  is  sixteen  feet  per- 
pendicular, but  is  said  sometimes  to  be  upward  of  twenty  feet. 
The  gorge  through  which  the  water  passes  is  fifty  feet."* 

The  lumbering  interests  on  the  Kennebeck  still  hold  a  marked 
prominence. 

There  is  reported  on  this  river  and  its  tributaries,  from  Bath 
*  Geological  Reports  of  Maine. 


2ri2 


RIVER    LIFE. 


iiorlhwurd,  incliuling  all  its  tributaries  (not  iiiclti(liii<»'  tlie  Aii- 
(Iroscof.'-'^Mu  as  one),  one  hundred  and  fii'ty  saw-mills,  several  of 
which,  from  Augusta  down,  arc  driven  by  steam. 

Averaginf?  the  various  amounts  of  long  lumber,  as  reported 
from  sources  the  most  reliable,  we  report  GG, 900, 000  feet  as  the 
amount  of  lonj,^  lumber  sawed  in  one  year,  tliou«,^h  not  the  inva- 
riable amount,  as  this  differs  on  all  rivers  more  or  less,  as  the 
various  influences  to  which  this  business  is  subjected  operate. 
The  average  price  of  long  lumber  has  been  variously  estimated 
by  different  gentlemen  who  have  given  an  opinion,  but,  from 
tlie  best  evidences  before  me,  I  venture  to  put  it  down  at  $12 
per  M. 

But  the  question  here  ocjurs,  and  to  my  own  mind  with  dis- 
tinct impressivene«s,  "Why  is  there  so  great  a  disparity  in  the 
prices  of  long  lumber  on  the  Kennebeck  and  the  Penobscot  ? 
This  question  I  can  not  satisfactorily  answer  to  myself,  and  to  it 
I  venture  but  one  suggestion  in  reply.  The  probability  is,  that, 
in  the  wholesale  slaughter  (so  to  speak)  of  lumber  on  the  Penob- 
scot, there  may  be  a  larger  proportion  of  the  fourth,  fifth,  and 
sixth  qualities  of  lumber — as  it  is  there  distinguished — than  on 
the  Kennebeck. 

Having  made  application  to  some  of  the  most  intelligent  lum- 
bermen on  the  Penobscot  for  a  solution  of  this  question,  I  may 
yet  be  able  to  append  such  facts  as  the  inquiry  may  elicit. 

From  the  best  sources  of  information  to  which  I  have  had  ac-' 

cess,  the  following  is  furnished  as  a  tolerable  approximation  to 

the  truth  in  relation  to  the  amount  and  value  of  short  lumber  : 

Laths,  17     millions,  at  $100  00  per  ill.  =i$  17,000. 

Clap-boards,  4  '*         "        15  00     "     "  60,000. 

Shingles,      2Gi         "         "  2  50     "      '  CG,250. 

The  "  Gardiner  P'ountain"  for  Jarmary  28,  1848,  reports  the 
following  as  the  amount  of  the  various  denominations  of  lumber 
manufactured  at  G  ardiner  and  Pittston  : 


RIVKR    T-Il'K. 


283 


Llie  Au- 
X'rai  of 

•epovletl 
t  as  tho 
le  iiiva- 
,  as  lliu 
operate, 
iti  mated 
it,  IVoiii 
at  $^12 

\'ith  (lis- 
j  ill  the 
loLscot  ? 
mil  t(i  it 
is,  that, 
;  Peiioh- 
Ith,  and 
than  on 

lit  luin- 
I  may 

it. 

had  aC' 

atioii  to 

mber  : 
00. 

)00. 

^50. 

orts  the 
lumber 


"  LouirliiiiilxT,  :.M).^-j|  .!/■.  ,•  Sliini-ics,  1  (kIJOij  .1/.  /  Clup-lionnU, 
VM)')  M.  ;  and  of  pickets,  od  J/."'  The  editor  rciiiai-ks  liiat  ••the 
amount  ol"  iiiniiey  received  lor  sales  on  the  aliove  liuulier  is 
$  I  l-l.OOO."  la  addition  to  other  kintls  of  hiiiihcr,  there  are 
larpfe  quantities  of  (h)()r  and  hlind  stullnot  enumerateii. 

There  remains  hut  one  observation  to  be  math'  loucliina'  the 
lumber  business  on  llie  Keimebeek.  It  is  estimated  h-y  ^(Mid 
judL^es  ihat  tlie  present  annual  amf)uut  of  lumber  on  this  liver 
may  be  hauled  for  ten  successive  years,  after  Avbich  it  ^vill  de- 
preciate one  fourth  every  ten  years,  and  thus,  in  forty  years,  ex- 
haust the  resources  of  the  river. 

For  the  principal  facts  involved  in  the  above  statements,  not 
duly  credited  already,  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  A.  W.  l5abeock',  an 
inlellijrent  ;j:entleman  and  extensive  operator  on  the  Penobscot  ; 
also  to  Mr.  E.  Bartlctt,  of  Aufjusta,  whose  zeal  in  funiishini^  an- 
SAvers  to  the  various  questions  proposed  for  consideration  lias  only 
been  equaled  by  the  deirree  of  readiness  which  he  has  manifest- 
ed to  assist  me  ;  and  to  M .  Springer,  b^sq.,  deputy  collector  oi' 
the  customs  for  the  port  of  Gardiner,  Maine. 

Statistics  of  Lumueii  on  thk  Kknnkukck. 

Avurayo  jiricu  pur  M 


No.  f)f  f^iiw-mills , 

Atiiounl  ut'  Lnii:^  Luiiibcr.. 

"  Laths 

"  Cliip-lxiards  . . . 

"  Sliiii-lcM 


l.'>0. 

fin. ()()(). f)oo. 

17.(11)0.01)0. 

'1.000.000. 

2(),000,.300. 


Probable    nnnil)cr   of  men 

(Miiplnyed '1,200  to  I.-IOO. 

I'ntbal)!!'   imnil)er  of  Oxeu 

and  llorsi\s  ein})loycd. .  .  1,000. 


$1:2  00. 

1  00. 
1.')  00. 

2  50. 


Tutnl. 

s:S0-2,0()0. 
17.000. 
(Id. 000. 

(ii;.-j:)0. 

!p01(J,.jOO. 


Takiuii  leave  of  the  beautiful  Kemiebeck,  the  flourishinir  vll- 
laircs  which  skirt  its  borders,  and  its  rich,  productive  farms,  spread- 
in<r  east  and  west,  our  attention  is  next  arrested  by  the  serpen- 
tine Andro,?conr^in,  with  its  vast  water  power. 


231 


RIVER    LIFE. 


"  From  Merry-rncclliig  Bay,  into  wliicli  it  empties,  to  Lewiston 
Falls,  it  lormerly  went  Ly  the  name  of  Peycpscook  or  Pyepseook, 
which  means  crooked,  like  a  divinj^  snake,"  strikingly  exj)ressivo 
oi'  the  zigzag  course  ol'  the  stream,  and  the  numerous  i)itches  in 
its  cluinnel,  giving  it  the  appearance,  or  at  least  su"  resting  the 
idea,  ol'  the  movements  of  a  diving  eel. 

The  length  of  this  river  is  set  down  at  tM'o  hundred  and  fifty 
miles,  though  the  distance,  in  a  direct  line  from  the  point  where 
it  takes  its  rise  to  its  mouth,  does  not  probahly  exceed  one  hund- 
red miles.  It  is  this  circumstance  which  gives  it  an  opportunity 
to  drain  a  large  territory,  and,  though  less  numerously  atteiuled 
with  tributary  streams  than  either  the  Kenneheck  or  Penobscot,  it 
is  said  to  discharge  more  water  during  the  year  than  cither  of  tho 
latter  rivers. 

To  glance  at  the  map  and  institute  a  comparison  between  the 
Penobscot  and  Androscoggin,  the  former  sixty  miles  longer,  with 
its  hundreds  of  lakes,  numerous  branches  and  tributaries,  ramify- 
ing nearly  one  third  the  area  of  the  entire  state,  in  the  regions 
of  ice  and  snow,  mountains  and  wildernesses,  then  survey  tho 
Androscoggin,  with  comparatively  few  tributaries  or  lakes,  and 
the  thing  seems  incredible  that  the  latter  annually  pours  into  the 
Atlantic  more  water  than  the  former  ;  yet  actual  surveys,  made 
by  the  late  Colonel  Baldwin,  J.  A.  Beard,  Esq.,  and  others,  have 
demonstrated  this  result  with  mathematical  certainty.  In  time 
of  freshets,  in  the  spring  and  fall,  doubtless  the  Penobscot  dis- 
gorges more  water;  but  during  the  sunnner  and  winter  mouths 
the  M'aters  of  the  Androscoggin  exceed  in  quantity. 

The  country  through  which  this  river  flows,  "  from  Bruns- 
wick," a  few  miles  from  its  junction  with  the  Kennebeck,  "  to  Dix- 
field,  sixty  miles  distant,  is  not  remarkable  in  its  features  ;  but 
from  the  latter  place  to  Umbagog  Lake,"  the  grand  reservoir  of 
the  Androscoggin,  "  and  from  Phillips,  in  Franklin  county,  west- 
ward, up  the  Megalloway  River,"  the  extreme  north  tributary 


<' 


Lewislon 
ycpscook. 
xpresj^ivo 
)ilcht'.s  ill 
sting  tlie 

ami  fifty  , 
lilt  where 
me  liuiitl- 
portunity 
atteiulecl 
lobscot,  it 
her  oi'tlio 

ween  the 
iger,  with 
s,  ramify- 


e  regions 
u'vey  the 
ikos,  and 

into  the 

ys,  made 

lers,  have 

In  time 
3scot  dis- 
r  mouths 

n  Bruns- 
"  to  Dix- 
ires  ;  but 
servoir  of 
ity,  west- 
tributary 


f 


RIVER    IJFE. 


2'iry 


ofllic  Andro^'oiririn,  "some  thirty  or  forty  miles,  the  country  is 
eaid  to  lie  woiuh'rfi'.l  for  its  mountains.'' 

Respecting'  the  water  jiower  and  privilcires  f)n  this  river,  f'ol- 
onel  A.  J.  Stone,  to  whom  I  'im  chidly  under  obliiratioiis  lor  the 
facts  involved  in  tliis  \)tiv\  of  my  work,  says,  "  I  douht  whetlicr 
there  is  a  slate  in  the  Union  that  can  show  so  many  as  we  can 
on  tlie  AndroscofTirin  and  its  tributaries." 

"  There  are  now  three  or  lour  water-falls  at  Eumford,  on  this 
river,  while  anciently  then  '^oust  have  been  others  of  greater  mag- 
nitude, for  deep  holes  are  seen  worn  high  up  on  the  rocky  banks, 
■wjicre  the  waters  never  ran  in  modern  times.      Now  the  whole 


Ruuiford  Falls,  Androscoggin  Kivcr. 

descent  is  divided  into  two  principal  and  two  minor  falls,  the  first 
two  being  from  six  to  ten  feet,  the  middle  seventy  feet  perpen- 
dicular, and  the  foiu'th  twenty  feet,  M'hile  the  whole  pitch  is  es- 
timated at  one  hundred  and  eijrhtv  feet.  It  is  the  middle  fall, 
however,  that  M'ill  attract  the  attention  of  the  traveler,  for  there 
the  torrent  of  water  pouring  down  with  the  noise  of  thunder,  and 


iMvr.ii  T.rrR. 


h 


4 


m  \ 


(liisliiiin*  ilsrlliiito  luMiii  IIS  it  cliut'fs  llic  mcky  \Niills,  |»cu(luccs  lui 
t'lii'cl  lull  ol"  L''i';iii(J('iir.'" — ( Ifiilo'jiidl  JlcjKu'/s. 

"  III  the  (listaiic'o  ol"  IimH"  a  mile  on  tlic  river,  ;il,  this  jilaco 
(I'nmswic'k),  wo  liavo  lorty-ouc  Icct,  Tail  (llirt'c  dams  across  llio 
rivor),  coii.so(|iioiilly  the  walor  may  ho  iisod  in  this  distaiioo  lliroc 
liiiu's."  "  l)y  !i,  survey  inado  by  llio  lale  Colonel  Baldwin,  the  ea- 
pacily  ol' llie  Androscoir^nn  is  sullicient  lor  (%'irryin<r  two  hundred 
thousand  spindles."  Numerous  privilejres  of  the  same  cajiacily 
ai'o  ol"  liiMjUfiit,  oeeiirreiieu.  All  that  is  requisite  to  make  this 
river  ihe  seat  ol'  the  most  extensive  l'act(jry  oj)erations  in  ihe 
world  is  eaijilal,  and  I'rom  ihe  superior  water  jiower  here  pie- 
senled.  it  is  lair  1o  j)resuine  that  the  attention  id"  capitalists  iiniy 
ultimately  lead  to  investments  in  manufucturing  on  a  magnili- 
cent  scale. 

At  liivermore  some  incipient  movemenls  arc  makinjr  for  the 
erection  ol"  lactories  hy  a  company.  At  Brunswick,  a  cotton  lac- 
tory,  with  lour  thousand  six  liuiulred  spindles,  is  already  in  opera- 
tion. 

In  relation  to  the  lumhering  hnsincss  on  tliis  river,  the  chief 
object  of  attention  in  noticini^  this  and  the  rivers  already  alluded 
to,  there  are  "from  two  to  three  million  feet  of  liunher  run  down, 
and  about  the  same  amount  is  purchased  (in  the  lo<r)  on  the 
Kennebeck,  and  taken  up  throu^'h  xMerry-meeting  Bay,  and  man- 
ufactured at  Brunswick  yearly." 

"  Five  millions  are  manufactured  into  boards,  and  about  one 
million  into  clap-boards  and  sliinj^les,  kc.  About  one  half  of  the 
five  liiillions  manufactuivd  into  boards  are  shi|)ped  to  Boston, 
j\lass.,  rrovidence  and  Fall  llivcr,  II.  I.,  and  to  the  West  Indies. 
The  remaininj^  half  are  manufactured  here  into  sugar-box  shooks 
for  the  Havana  market." 

The  mean  or  average  price  wliich  hmibcr  boars  per  M.  here  is 
$11  .')().  The  "  resources  for  lumber  on  this  river  are  very  limit- 
ed.    The  principal  dealers  are  about  leaving  the  business,  though 


luces  an 
is    |il;ico 

ITOSS   till) 

ICC  llirce 
I,  the  cii- 
liiiudri'd 
CMjiacily 
Hike  this 
s  ill  llic 
icfc  p re- 
lists may 
niagiiill- 

5  ibr  the 
)tt()n  i'ac- 
in  opera- 
he  chief 
alhuled 
11  (U)wii, 
)  oil  the 
nd  iiKiii- 

3out  ono 
1 1 1"  of  the 

)0Sl0ll, 

Indies. 
x:  sliooks 

'.  lievc  is 
ry  Jiniit- 
though 


niVKIl    LIIR. 


2'M 


1 


liiiiiltcr,  ill  siiKilI  t|i;;uitilles,  \\ill  piohahly  bo  run  iot  Iweiily  or 
tliii'ly  v«'ais.'' 

Logs  are  driven  al»imt  one  liundrcil  ami  tlfiy  luiK's,  this  heiiiu: 
the  longest  drive.  Uthcis  lu'e  hauled  on  lo  the  ii\er  within  ft>ity 
iniies  of  Ihanisu  ick. 

Frciii  the  causes  aUuded  to,  llie  AiKh'oscogLnn  is  not  nnieh  al- 
I'ecled  with  firelight,  nor  so  seriously  by  freshets  as  uiest  rivers, 
the  mills  being  protected  by  ledges.  "The  river  is  very  cretdsed, 
and  when  we  have  an  ice  iVeshet,  it  is  pile<l  ii^i  in  large  ((uan- 
tities  in  ihe  bends  ol"  the  river,  in  some  instances  lor  li\e  or  six: 
miles,  f^iudi  was  the  case  nine  years  since — also  last  spring  ;  but 
tlie  damage  to  our  mills  in  tliese  two  ice  freshets  was  but  trilling.'' 

TImbagog  Lake,  from  which  the  AiiiiroscogLiiii  taki'S  its  rise, 
from  tli(f  construction  of  its  shores,  acts  as  a  regulator  upon  the 
height  of  the  water.     "VYhcn  tlie  Megalloway  rises,  it  Hows  into 


View  ot  Umbagog  Lnke — source  of  the  Androscoggin. 

tlie  Androf=ooggiii,  and  raises  its  waters,  so  that  they  run  hacdc 
into  the  lake  for  the  distance  of  two  miles,  having  the  appear- 


SHR 


Rivrn  T.rrr. 


(   :   I 


iiiH'c  of  ;i  river   niiiniiiL'"   lnu-K'  to   its  soiin'c.      Tlic  Aii(lr(isfOL''iriil 

rises  Iroiii  llie  \\('>leru  .••ide  (4  llie  IllKi',  lllld  liei'e  is  ;i  -lll-i'itisll 
SIlCMliI,  wllll  li»\\',  HTIlSSy  liailks  live  feet  lliL''ll.  t'dVered  Milh  seat- 
teriiiLT  s\vaiii|i  .\l a|ile-l rees."  "'riie  .Meir.''Ilti\\iiy  liiver  is  ox- 
Ireiiiely  sei|uMiliMe  and  wild  ill  its  cdiirse,  \siiidiii^^  its  wav  amid 
liiirli  iiioiiiilaiiis,  Mliile  its  hanks  aro  c<)iii]K>setl  ol"  sandy  loam, 
Cdvered  lliiekly  with  .Ma))h'-lr('C's." 

'' Thi'  Tmhajrc^^  Jiako  is  an  irre^nihar,  s]ialh)W  slieet  ofwator, 
with  frrassy  and  hoLfiiy  shores,  and  is  surrounded  hy  h)l'tv  moiuit- 
ains  of  ^iranite,  which  in  Septendier  aro  (dolhod  Avilli  lh(!  red 
and  ycdiow  lohairi^  of  Mai)!e  and  ihrrdi  trees,  the  t'ormer  tireatly 
])ri'domiinilin^-,  and  coverinii:  the  mounlains  to  their  verv  sum- 
mils."  AiHony  other  oltjeels  of  ronnintie  interest  arc  "  Fry<''s 
Fulls,  in  Audovur  ►Surjilus,"  ii])on  Frye's  »Slreaui,  so  called.     "  This 


Frye'8  Fulls,  on  a  tributary  of  VAVis  River. 

stream  rnslics  over  a  precipitous  mass  of  jiranite,  irneiss,  and  mica 
phato  rooks,  ])recipitalinf^  itself  by  a  i'all  of  twenty-five  feet  into  a 
rocky  basin  below.     The  chasm  is  liftcen  feet  wide,  and  the  basin 


f 


y 


\  nil  sciil- 
cr  is  ox- 
uiiy  iiiiiid 
idy   loiuii, 

of  Wilier, 
i'lv  moiinl- 
h  l!n'  rc'l 
iT  •rrt'jtily 
very  smu- 
•c  "  F rye's 
d.     "Tills 


^i^lrf 


m^. 


■>:,),.  If 


1,  and  mica 
feet  into  a 
1  the  basin 


f 


TJIVTR    T.nT. 


2.'10 


fil'ly-llVe  lei't  lirit.'lil.  Mere  tlie  wnleiS  fonil  ;i  lie.'iiilit'iil  |HMiI,  ;ilid 
lliell  lf;i|»  ;iLr:iiii.  I»y  :i  secdlid  I'mII  nl'  twciltv  r.'cl,  iiild  :ilinllier 
l.'irii'er  and  .-hallnw  cr  I'l-nxoir.  iVciii  wliicli  iliev  de-ceiul  <M'adii- 
ally  to  Sawyer's  Urnnk,  rmiuiii!:  into  Mljis  Kiver." 


•  •  i  .  ' 

S^ '-.■■-• 

' 

^  »* 

^^H 

jrJH 

j^^if-t'r*' 

abE:<!ir»srj«« 

^f.,...j.^ 

H 

Pi 

:^t^- 

"       -           ■                   .Y' 

'  •-  ".  .        j:__^  .  _ 

— ^ .  ,    _ 

i-__-.  —_^  . 

■'*"'™" 

—  - 

Tliere  are  alinut  ?ix1y  saw-mills  on  lliis  river  nud  its  trihula- 
ries,  lliirty-two  of  ^vhi(dl  are  at  Brunswick  and  T()))shani  ;  ahont 
two  hundred  shinirlc  ma(diincs,  most  of  Avliicdi  mannfaelnre  for 
homo  consumption  ;  ton  only,  or  thoroahonts,  manufaeture  for 
markets  ahroad,  whicdi  cut  about  three  hundred  thousand  to  a 
maehine.  Average  price  per  71/.,  S 2  75.  Tliouu:h  there  are  said 
1o  h(^  lif'ty  clap-hoard  matdiines  of  some  sort  on  tlu^  river,  yet  only 
"nine  can  Ix^  reckoned  as  manufacturinfif  for  market, "  "whieh, 
owiuiT  to  the  seantv  snnnlv  of  timher.  cut  onlv  ahont  liflv  Jf."  to 
a  machine.  Averaire  ])riee  of  clap-hoards  per  717".,  ^^'22  -lO.  Tliere 
arc  only  nine  lath  matdiines.  which,  as  is  re])er1e(l.  for  want  of 
material,  cut  only  ahont  two  hnndred  and  lilly  thousand  to  a  ma 
cliiiie.     Average  price  jicr  jif.,  si  18. 


I 


I 


i  •<  { 


■i     I 
il 


in 


.11 


!)i 


!   1^ 


h  ;■* 


Ji 


210 


RIVER    I-IIT,. 


Throwiiifi-  llio  Avliole,  tlicn,  into  a  tabular  I'onii,  Me  liavc  pre- 
SL-u1('(l  lor  our  ini«})ectiou  the  results  ol' the  luuiheriuj^  operatiuua 
oil  the  Auilru.seo'igiu,  lor  the  market,  as  lollows  ; 


There  is  also  a  small  amount  of  lumber  manufactured  on  the 
Presumpscot,  a  small  river  about  fifty  miles  lonpr,  if  we  include 
Heba^''()  Pond  as  a  connectiuir  link  between  Presum})Scot  ]^roi)er 
and  the  continuation  of  the  inlet  stream,  whi(di  takes  ils  rise 
aljont  twenty  miles  east  of  the  White  Mountains  in  New  TTamp- 
sliire,  runnin<r  southwest,  and  finally  emptying  into  Casco  Bay,  a 
few  miles  north  of  Portland. 

"  There  are  said  to  be  seventeen  falls  of  water  on  this  river 
■W'ilhin  twenty  miles  of  Portland,  each  ailbrding  a  good  site  for 
mills,  and  a  snflicient  volume  of  water  on  each  pitch  to  carry 
eight  hundred  looms,  together  with  all  other  needed  macliiuery 
for  such  purposes."  "  iSebago  Lake  is  a  thoroughfare  and  feed- 
er of  the  Cumberland  and  Oxford  Canal,  and  there  are  between 
the  lake  and  the  sea  twenty-six  locks  of  nearly  ten  feet  each, 
making  the  fall  ccpial  to  two  hundred  and  fifty-five  feet."  The 
fountains  of  this  river  are  so  springy  that  "the  water  never  freezes 
?o  as  1o  prevent  or  impede  operations,"  nor  are  they  troubled  with 
droughts  ;  tlie  current  is  ever-living. 

At  Sacara])pa,  on  the  Presumpscot,  there  arc  six  saws  for  long 
lumber,  two  shingle  and  two  lath  machines.     At  Great  Falls 


A.Nnuosrofifii.v. 

' 

No.  ofS;iw-iTii'ls 

fiO. 

Avcni^T  jirifo  per  M. 

Total. 

] 

1 

"       Sliiii"l(*  MiH'l lilies  . . . 

10. 

"       Clait-lxtiird  Aliicliines 

"       J.iilh  >iMcliiii('s     . ..  . 

r»,n()(i.()()i). 

$11  nn. 

7i.5on. 

Anioiint  ill"  [iUiii:  fiiiiiihi-r  . . 

... 

"             Sliin-lr.s 

:j, ()()(). ()()(). 

)i  7."). 

s,-j:)(). 

"            Clii|)-i)uurds 

•  .  > 

'l.")!). ()()(). 

2-2  .">(). 

l-i.:{7:>. 

j 

"           Laihs 

•  .  . 

2,2,j(),UU0. 

1   18. 

2.77:{. 

i?.'M,8!).S. 

i 

have  prc- 
u|»ci'atiuus 


ired  on  l1ic 

scot  Propel" 
ikes  its  rise 


^ 


e\v  ITamp- 
isco  Bay,  a 


II  this  river 
00(1  site  lor 
eh  to  carry 
macliiiiery 
e  and  feed- 
ire  between 
feet  each, 
leet."  Tlie 
lOver  freezes 
oiibled  with 

aws  for  hniq: 
Great  Falls 


RIVER    LIFE. 


211 


there  are  four  saws,  also  four  more  a  few  miles  up  the  river,  and 
four  shingle  and  four  lath  machines.  Above  Sebago  Pond  thero 
are  also  four  more  saw-mills,  the  produce  of  which  iiuds  a  do- 
mestic market  in  the  neighboring  towns. 

The  resources  for  lumber  on  this  river  are  nearly  exhausted, 
as  must  be  evident  from  the  settled  condition  of  the  country 
through  which  it  runs  its  short  career. 

Having  no  means  by  which  to  ascertain  the  various  amounts 
of  lumber  manufactured  on  this  river,  I  will  venture  upon  a  cal- 
culation, with  a  view  to  make  results  more  tangible,  keeping  in 
view  the  scanty  resources  lumbermen  must  have  in  such  a  coun- 
try for  logs. 

There  are  fourteen  saws  reportetl  which  manufacture  for  ex- 
portation. With  a  proper  head  of  water  and  a  sufficient  num- 
ber of  logs,  one  saw  is  capable  of  cutting  a  million  feet  per  an- 
num. But,  in  the  absence  of  the  necessary  supply  of  logs,  we 
should  feel  inclined  to  limit  the  amount  manutactured  per  saw  to 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  feet,  board  measure,  the  average 
price  of  which  is  said  to  be  $12  per  ill". 

Of  lath  machines  there  are  six  reported,  capable,  under  favor- 
able circumstances,  of  cutting  one  million  pieces  per  annum  to  a 
machine.  But  in  this  instance,  from  the  scanty  supply  of  mate- 
rial, we  should  not  feel  warranted  in  an  estimate  exceeding  two 
hundred  thousand  to  each  machine  as  the  average  product,  worth 
probably  about  the  same  as  similar  kinds  of  lumber  on  the  An- 
droscoggin. 

Six  shingle  machhies  may  be  supposed  to  produce  a  limidd 
amount  of  this  kind  of  lumber,  for  the  same  general  rea.sMu  ;i.s- 
signed  for  the  scanty  supply  of  other  kinds.  Two  huuilrcd  ;uid 
fifty  thousand  to  each  machine,  worth  tAVo  dollars  and  lifly  ceuti 
per  M.,  may  therefore  be  considered  not  extravagant. 

Some  attention  has  been  given  to  factory  operations  ou  llii.s 
river  at  Sacarappa,  where  there  is  one  mill  with  three  luuid- 

L 


1 


l^ 


242 


RIVER    LIFE. 


red   and  sixty  looms,  whether  for  cotton  or  wool  I  am  unin- 
formed. 

Table. 
Number  of  saws  manufacturing'  for  market,  14. 
"  "  lath  and  shingle  machines,  do.,    12. 

Amount  of  long  lumber  .   .   .   .  2,100,000,  at  $12. 00  =  $25,200. 
Number  of  thousand  shingles     1, 000,000,  at       2.50=      3,750. 

laths   .  .   1,200,000,  at       1.12=      1,344. 
Total $30,2'J4. 

Though  this  is  comparatively  a  small  lumber  operation,  still, 
provided  the  truth  has  been  approximated  in  the  estimates  made, 
this  done  annually  amounts  to  no  mean  revenue,  and  afibrds  em- 
ployment to  not  a  few  persons,  supplying  bread  for  many  mouths, 
and  enriching  those  who  conduct  the  business.  While  such  oper- 
ations build  up  many  beautiful  villages  along  the  romantic  banks 
of  those  fme  streams  and  rivers  where  falls  occur,  they  also  give 
an  impulse  to  the  farming  interests  of  the  country  contiguous,  and 
serve  as  so  many  little  hearts  in  the  great  system,  whose  pulsa- 
tions vibrate  with  general  intelligence,  education,  and  improved 
manners  throughout  the  interior. 

For  the  principal  facta  involved  in  the  view  given  of  the  Pre- 
sumpscot  and  its  lumbering  interests,  I  am  mainly  indebted  to 
the  kindness  of  E.  Clarke,  M.D.,  of  Portland,  Maine. 

The  next  consicl-^rable  river  is  Saco,  which  rises  among  the 
Wliite  Mountains  of  New  Hampshire,  at  the  notch  near  where 
the  Ammonoosuc  Iliver  takes  its  rise.  The  Saco,  from  its  source 
to  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  into  which  it  empties,  is  about  one  hund- 
red and  forty  miles  in  length,  its  current  rapid,  and  waters  clear. 
In  common  with  many  other  rivers,  some  portion  of  it  is  exceed- 
ingly crooked.  Within  the  single  town  of  Fryebuig  its  serpentine 
windings  are  said  to  be  thirty-six  miles,  making  in  this  meander- 
ing only  four  miles  on  a  direct  line.  Fine  intervale  lands  abound 
in  this  vicmity.  and  also  in  Brownfield. 


i 

1 


am  unin- 


=  $25,200. 
=  3,750. 
^      1,344. 

^3U,2U4. 
ation,  still, 
ales  made, 
aflbrds  em- 
ny  mouths, 

such  oper- 
mtic  banks 
y  also  give 
iguous,  and 
hose  pulsa- 
[1  improved 

of  the  Pre- 
iidcbted  to 

among  the 
near  where 
n  its  source 
one  hund- 
'aters  clear, 
t  is  exceed- 
s  serpentine 
is  meander- 
nds  abound 


KIVER    LIFE. 


213 


There  are  four  noted  fuUs  on  this  river.  The  fir.st  is  called  Great 
Falls,  at  lliruui,  where  the  water  plunges  down  a  ledge  of  rug- 
ged rocks  seventy-two  feet.  At  Lemington  are  the  Steep  Falls, 
of  twenty  feet.  At  Buxton  are  Sal))io/i  Falls,  of  thirty  feet ; 
and  ten  miles  below  we  come  to  Saco  Falls,  where  the  river  is 
divided  by  IntUati  Island,  containing  thirty  acres,  and  on  each 
side  the  river  tumbles  over  a  precipice  of  rocks  forty-two  feet 
high,  and  disappears  amid  the  waves  of  the  Atlantic.  From  the 
east  side  of  the  above-named  island,  which  is  fertile  and  pleasant, 
the  appearance  of  these  falls  is  majestic. 

This  river  is  easily  allected  by  freshets.  At  such  times  the 
water  rises  ten  feet,  and  sometimes  it  has  risen  twenty-five  feet ; 
when  in  many  places  it  overflows  its  banks,  and  makes  great 
havoc  M'itli  property. 

This  was  particularly  the  case  in  the  great  flood  of  October, 
1775,  when  a  large  stream,  called  New  liivcr,  broke  out  of  the 
Willi c  MuiDitaiiis,  and  bore  down  every  thing  in  its  way,  till  it 
found  a  channel  in  Ellis  lliver.  The  Saco,  being  swelled  enor- 
mously by  this  acces.sion  to  its  waters,  swept  away  mills,  bridges, 
domestic  animals,  and  great  quantities  of  lumber. 

The  burst  of  New  lliver  from  the  mountains  was  a  great  phe- 
nomenon ;  and  as  its  waters  were  of  a  reddish  brown  or  blood 
color,  the  people  considered  it  an  ill  omen  in  those  times  of  revo- 
lution.*' 

In  regard  to  the  lumbering  interests  on  this  river  we  know  but 
little,  save  that  in  years  gone  by  it  has  constituted  a  large  share 
of  the  business  done  on  the  river,  and  that  at  the  present  time  it 
has  so  nmcL  diminished  as  to  be  comparatively  unimportant.! 

•  Williamson's  Ilislory  of  Maine. 

t  Several  letters  were  written  to  JiflTerent  gentlemen  at  Saco,  such  as  wera 
named  to  mo  by  their  friends  abroad,  for  information  on  tiiis  subject;  but 
from  some  cause,  they  have  remained  silent,  having  taken  no  notice  of  my 
letlei's,  which,  I  am  happy  to  say,  forms  but  07ic,  and  tlie  only  exception  to 


I 


il 


i 


« 


?l 


244 


KIVER    LIFE. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

NEW  BRUNSWICK. 

Object  of  the  Chapter. — Description  of  St.  John's  River. — First  Falls.— Con- 
tiguous Countiy. — "Mars  Hill." — Prospect. —  Grand  Falls. —  The  Acar 
dians,  curious  B'acts  respecting  them. — The  M  >  machi  River. — Inimenso 
amount  of  Timber  shipped. — Riots. — State  of  ^Morals. — The  great  Rliri- 
machi  Fire. — Hurricane. — Destruction  of  Human  Life. — Area  of  the  Fire. 
— Vessels  in  Harbor. — Painfully  disgusting  Sights. — Destruction  among 
Fish. —  Fire,  rapidity  of  Progress. —  Curious  instance  of  Escape. —  Risti- 
gouche  River,  its  Le.  iz  h — Capacious  Hai-bor. — Appearance  of  the  Coun- 
try.— High  Banks. — Groves  of  Pine. — A  Statistical  Table. 

With  a  view  to  give  a  general  outline  of  the  immense  capac- 
ities of  the  strip  of  country  lying  east  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  be- 
tween the  latitudes  of  42°  and  44°  north,  I  shall  include  (as  the 
terminus  of  Maine,  not  regarding  geographical  lines)  that  part  of 
the  country  known  as  the  province  of  New  Brunswick,  whose  lum- 
ber in  quality  has,  in  years  past,  quite  outrivaled  that  of  Maine. 

The  Hiver  St.  John's,  the  Mississippi  of  the  East,  "  has  a  course 
of  nearly  six  hundred  miles  from  its  source,  near  the  Chaudiere, 
in  Lower  Canada,  to  where  it  falls  into  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  At 
its  entrance  into  the  harbor  the  river  passes  through  a  fissure  of 
solid  and  overhanging  rock,  exhibiting  every  appearance  of  hav- 
ing been  formed  by  some  convulsion  of  nature.  The  volume  of 
water  collected  in  a  course  of  so  many  hundred  miles,  being  here 
compelled  to  pass  through  so  narrow  a  passage  as  thirteen  hund- 
red feet,  occasions  what  are  called  the  Falls  of  St.  John's,  which 

the  prompt  and  intelligent  responses  the  author  has  received  from  gentle- 
men wherever  his  inquiries  have  been  directed,  whether  to  the  province  of 
New  Bruns\.  ick,  or  to  gentlemen  in  Calais,  Bangor,  Augusta,  Brunswick,  and 
Tortlaad,  Maine. 


'alls.— Con- 
-The  Acar 
— Immenso 
great  Miri- 
of  the  Fire, 
tion  among 
»pe. —  Risti- 
f  the  Couu- 


ise  capac- 
Tence,  be- 
de  (as  tlio 
at  part  of 
rho&e  lum- 
of  Maine. 
IS  a  course 
Miaudiere, 
mdy.     At 

fissure  of 
ce  of  hav- 
volume  of 
jeing  here 

ecu  liund- 
ii's,  which 

Tom  gentle- 
province  of 
mswick,  and 


RIVER    LIFR. 


215 


are  merely  a  sluice  on  a  grand  scale.  At  times  of  great  floods, 
the  appearance  from  the  overhanging  precipices  is  truly  wonder- 
ful, and  the  noise  tremendous,  particularly  on  the  ebb  of  tide. 
The  ordinary  rise  of  the  tide  above  the  falls  is  only  six  feet,  and 
then  only  wlicn  the  river  is  not  swollen.  The  tide  must  flow 
twelve  feet  below  before  the  river  becomes  passable  for  vessels  ; 
the  time  for  such  passage  lasts  about  twenty  minutes  after  the 
rise  of  tide  creates  a  fall  from  below  ;  on  the  returning  tide  the 
water  becomes  level  for  the  same  space  of  time,  and  thus  only  at 
four  times  in  the  twenty-four  hours  can  vessels  enter  tSt.  John's 
harbor,  in  which  the  rise  of  tide  is  from  twenty-five  to  thirty 
feet.  Above  the  falls  the  river  widens,,  and  forms  a  bay  of  some 
magnitude,  surrounded  by  high  and  rugged  wood-land.  Passing 
up  the  bay,  huge  calcareous  rocks,  and  vast,  dark  pine  forests 
stretch  up  the  sides  of  lofty  hills  and  promontories." 

From  the  city  of  St.  John's,  which  is  contiguous  to  the  falls,  up 
to  Fredericton  (the  seat  of  government),  ninety  miles  distant, 
there  is  much  to  admire  in  the  bays  and  beautiiVd  islands  which 
dot  its  limpid  waters.  A  great  portion  of  the  land  skirting  its 
banks  is  alluvial,  running  back  to  beautifid  ridges  which  swell 
up  in  the  distance,  and  "the  result  is  a  luxuriant  landscape." 
"  For  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles  further  the  river  flows  through 
a  fertile  wooded  country."  "Sixty-three  miles  above  Frederic- 
ton  are  the  towns  of  Northampton  and  Woodstock.  The  next 
conspicuous  place  we  reach  is  Mars  Hill,  about  five  miles  and  a 
half  west  of  the  River  St.  John's,  and  one  hundred  from  Freder- 
icton. This  town  has  considerable  interest  attached  to  it  from 
the  circumstance  of  its  being  the  point  fixed  on  by  the  Brit- 
ish commissioners  as  the  commencement  of  the  range  of  high- 
lands forming  the  boundary  of  the  United  States.  The  mount- 
ain is  about  three  miles  in  length,  with  a  base  upward  of  four 
miles,  an  elevation  of  two  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and  twelve 
hundred  above  the  source  of  the  St.  Croix.     Near  the  summit  it 


'    ' 


If 


i  !i 


If 


240 


RIVER    LIFM. 


is  almost  perpendicular.  As  it  is  the  highest  point  in  its  vicin- 
ity, the  prospect  coinmantls  a  great  extent  of  territory.  Imme- 
diately beneath  stretch  the  vast  forests  of  which  the  adjacent 
country  is  composed,  whose  undulatory  swells,  '  clothed  with  the 
somber  evergreen  of  the  Fir,  Spruce,  Hemlock,  and  Pine,  and  the 
lighter  green  of  the  Beech,  the  Birch,  and  Maple,  resembling, 
while  they  exceed,  the  stupendous  waves  of  the  ocean.'  About 
twenty-five  miles  north,  on  the  St.  John's,  we  come  to  the  Grand 
Falls,  where  the  river  passes,  greatly  contracted,  "  between  rug- 
ged clifli,  overhung  with  trees,  sweeping  along  a  descent  of  sev- 
eral feet  with  fearful  impetuosity,  until  the  interruption  of  a 
ridge  of  rocks  changes  the  hitherto  unbroken  volume  into  one  vast 
body  of  turbulent  foam,  which  thunders  over  a  perpendicular 
precipice,  about  fifty  feet  in  height,  into  a  deep  vortex  among 
huge  black  rocks,  when  the  St.  John's  rolls  out  impetuously 
through  a  channel  still  more  confined  in  width  over  a  succession 
of  falls  for  about  a  mile,  the  cliffs  here  overhanging  the  river  so 
much  as  to  conceal  it." 

"  When  the  sun's  rays  fall  upon  the  mists  and  spray  perpetu- 
ally rising  from  the  cataract,  a  gorgeous  iris  is  seen  floating  in 
the  air,  waving  its  rich  colors  over  the  white  foam,  and  forming 
a  beautiful  contrast  with  the  somber  rocks,  covered  with  dark 
cedars  and  pines,  which  overhang  the  abyss." 

"  The  St.  John's  is  much  broader  above  the  falls  than  it  is  be- 
low ;  and  there  are  but  few  rapids,  and  none  of  them  dangerous 
to  navigate."  About  thirty  miles  above  the  falls  we  come  to  the 
'  Madawaska  settlement,  the  population  of  which  is  estimated  at 
three  thousand  souls.'  "  Most  of  the  settlers  are  French  neutrals 
or  Acadians,  who  were  driven  by  British  violence  from  their 
homes  in  Nova  Scotia  (called  by  the  French  Acadia)  on  the  17th 
of  July,  1775.  These  people  at  first  established  themselves  above 
Fredericton,  and  subsequently  removed  above  the  Grand  Falls, 
and  effected  this  settlement.     The  Acadians  are  a  very  pecuHar 


..    -ii 


its  vicin- 
Inime- 

adjaceiit 

with  the 
(,  and  the 
isembling, 
.'     About 
he  Grand 
ween  rug- 
3nt  of  sev- 
)tion  of  a 
io  one  vast 
pendicular 
:ex  among 
upetuously 

succession 
he  river  so 

ly  perpetu- 

floating  in 

nd  forming 

with  dark 

an  it  is  be- 
dangerous 
!omc  to  the 
stimated  at 
ch  neutrals 
from  their 
3n  the  17  th 
elves  above 
rand  Falls, 
ery  peculiar 


RIVER    LIFE. 


217 


people,  remarkable  for  the  simplicity  of  their  manners  and  their 
fidelity  to  their  employers.  Although  they  are  said  to  be  'sliarp 
at  a  bargain,'  they  are  remarkably  honest,  industrious,  and  re- 
spectful, and  are  polite  and  hospitable  to  each  other  and  to  stran- 
gers. It  is  curious  to  observe  how  perfectly  they  have  retained 
all  their  French  peculiarities.  The  lorms  of  their  houses,  the 
decorations  of  their  apartments,  dress,  mode  of  cookery,  kc,  arc 
exactly  such  as  they  originally  w'cre  in  the  land  of  their  ances- 
tors. Tliey  speak  a  kind  of  ^?a?ozs,  or  corrupted  French,  but  per- 
fectly understand  the  modern  language  as  spoken  in  Paris.  But 
few  persons  can  be  found  who  can  understand  or  speak  E  iglisli, 
and  these  are  such  as,  from  the  necessities  of  trade,  have  learned 
a  few  words  of  the  language.  None  of  the  women  or  children 
either  understand  or  speak  English. 

"  The  Acadians  are  a  cheerful,  contented,  and  happy  people,  .so- 
cial in  their  intercourse,  and  never  pass  each  other  without  a 
kind  salutation.  While  they  thus  retain  all  the  marked  charac- 
teristics of  the  French  peasantry,  it  is  a  curious  fact  that  they 
appear  to  know  but  little  respecting  the  country  from  which  they 
originated,  and  but  few  of  them  have  the  least  idea  of  its  geo- 
graphical situation.  Thus  we  were  asked,  when  we  spoke  of 
France,  if  it  were  not  separated  from  England  by  a  river,  or  if  it 
were  near  the  coast  of  Nova  Scotia;  and  one  inquired  if  Bethle- 
hem, where  Christ  was  born,  were  not  a  town  in  France  1 1  Since 
they  have  no  schools,  and  their  knowledge  is  but  traditional,  it 
is  not  surprising  that  they  should  remain  thus  ignorant  of  geogra- 
phy and  history.  I  can  account  for  their  understanding  the  jjure 
French  language  from  the  circumstance  that  they  are  supplied 
with  Catholic  priests  from  the  mother  country,  who  of  course 
speak  to  them  in  that  tongue.  Those  who  visit  Madawaska 
must  remember  that  no  money  passes  current  there  but  silver,  for 
the  people  do  not  know  how  to  read,  and  will  not  take  bank-notes, 
as  they  have  often  been  imposed  upon,  since  they  are  unable  to 


»l 


SI   ': 


348 


nrvEii  Mi'E. 


disliiiguish  a  X5  from  a  ^5  or  five  shilliii'?  note.  As  there  arc 
no  regular  taverns  in  this  settlement,  every  family  the  traveler 
calls  upon  will  furnish  accommodations,  for  which  tliey  expect  a 
reasonable  compensation,  and  he  will  be  always  sure  of  kind  treat- 
ment, wliich  is  beyond  price.  I  liave  been  thus  particular  to 
speak  of  the  Acadian  settlers  of  Madawaska,  because  little  is  gen- 
erally known  of  their  manners  and  customs,  many  people  having 
the  idea  that  they  are  demi-savages,  because,  like  the  aboriginal 
inhabitants,  they  live  principally  by  hunting."* 

There  are  several  important  tributaries  to  the  St.  Jolin's,  and 
among  them  mention  may  be  made  of  the  Aroostook,  which, 
from  its  historical  associations  with  the  boundary  question  be- 
tween the  States  and  Great  Britain,  has  become  familiar  to  all. 
*'  This  river  is  a  broad  and  beautiful  stream,  having  a  gradual 
descent,  free  from  obstructions,  so  that  a  raft  may  run  to  the 
falls  at  its  confluence  with  the  St.  John's,"  a  distance  of  over  one 
hundred  miles.  *'  Its  bottom  is  composed  of  pebbles  for  the  prin- 
cipal part  of  its  course,  and  there  are  a  few  low  islands  in  its 
midst."  The  soil  varies  on  dilFerent  sections  of  the  river  as  you 
pass  down,  sometimes  being  of  a  "  chocolate  brown"  or  "  yellow 
loam,"  the  latter  being  in  some  places  covered  with  "  a  black 
vegetable  mold  several  niches  deep."  The  country  around  is 
covered  with  a  majestic  grove,  composed  of  towering  Pines,  Rock- 
maple,  and  the  various  Birches,  Spruce,  Fir,  &c.  Where  the  at- 
tempt has  been  made,  the  soil  is  found  to  be  exceedingly  pro- 
ductive. Its  principal  products  are  square  timber,  hewn  from 
the  giant  Pines  found  upon  its  borders,  and  sugar,  produced  from 
the  sap  of  the  Rock-maple,  magnificent  groves  of  which  grow  upon 
its  banks.  Beds  of  iron  ore  are  found  in  its  vicinity,  and  in  some 
places  limestone  abounds  ;  '  and,  from  indications,  it  is  highly 
probable  that  beds  of  anthracite  coal  will,  when  necessity  shall 
prompt  investigation,  be  found  in  its  vicinity.'  In  an  agricul- 
*  Dr.  Jacksou's  Geological  Reports. 


/ 


i  there  are 
le  traveler 
y  expect  a 
kind  treat- 
rticular  to 
ttle  is  gen- 
3le  haviuff 
aboriginal 

ohn's,  and 
k,  which, 
estion  be- 
iiar  to  all. 
a  gradual 
un  to  the 
f  over  one 
r  the  prin- 
rids  in  its 
rer  as  you 
:  "yellow 
"  a  black 
around  is 
les,  Rock- 
re  the  at- 
Ingly  pro- 
iwn  from 
iced  from 
row  upon 
1  in  some 
is  highly 
sity  shall 
agricul- 


( 


I  % 


)    . 


RIVER    LIFK. 


i>51 


(4 

(4 


o 

o 

H 
(/> 

o 

o 

o 


!4 
o 
o 

H 

a 
O 
O 


tural  pdiiit  ol' view,  it  has  been  rriiuiriti'il,  by  coiiipcknt  jiid^'cs, 
that  "  there  were  never  frreater  natural  ail  vantages  (»iri're(l  to  llio 
farmer  than  are  to  be  ioiaid  ui»on  this  river,"  ami  tliai  it  "  will" 
in  time  "  become,  as  it  is  destined  by  nature  to  be,  the  granary 
ol'the  North." 

Among  the  most  interesting  objects  to  be  mot  are  the  Ox-bow 
and  Aroostook  Falls.  The  former  consists  of  a  crook  in  the  riv- 
er, which  "  forms  a  curvature  of  one  mile,  while  the  neck  of  land 
included  between  the  two  portions  of  the  curve  is  but  twenty  rods 
across,  so  that  it  is  customary  lor  the  Indians  to  carry  their  ca- 
noes over  this  portage."  The  falls  occur  near  its  junction  with 
the  St.  John's.  "  The  water  is  very  rapid,  and  rushes  over  ledges 
of  slate  and  limestone  rocks  for  three  fourths  of  a  mile."  "  Then 
the  river  precipitates  itself  over  a  steep  and  broken  ledge  fifteen 
feet  into  a  wide  basin  below."  In  the  rocks  there  are  "pot- 
holes," "  five  feet  in  diameter  and  four  feet  deep,"  "  worn  in  the 
limestone  by  the  grinding  motion  of  rounded  stones  moved  by  the 
impetuous  current." 

The  reader  will  see  in  the  cut  a  picturesque  view  of  a  section 
of  this  beautiful  water- fall,  with  its  high  ledges,  overhung  with 
a  heavy  growth  of  cedar-trees.  The  country  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  falls  "  becomes  more  elevated,  and  lofty  precipices  of  lime- 
stone and  calciferous  slate  rise  on  each  bank  of  the  river,  while 
the  country  in  the  rear  is  broken,  hilly,  and  covered  with  an 
abundant  mixed  growth  of  forest  trees." 

"VVe  next  turn  our  attention  to  the  "  Mirimachi,"  one  of  the 
principal  rivers  of  the  province,  "  which  falls  into  the  Gulf  of 
St.  Lawrence  in  47°  10'  north  latitude,  Gl°  40'  west  longitude, 
forming  at  its  estuary  a  capacious  bay,  with  several  islands,  and 
a  ship  channel  for  vessels  of  seven  hundred  tons  burden,  and  nav- 
igable upward  of  thirty  miles  from  the  sea.  Chatham,  Doug- 
lass, and  Newcastle  are  the  principal  towns,  situated  on  the  banks 
of  the  river,  about  twenty-five  miles  from  its  mouth.     At  these 


Il^' 


:i 


-'.:,f 


252 


RIVER    MFF.. 


Betllonieiits  upward  of  two  hmulrod  voshcIs  aimujiUy  loiul  with 
tiniber  for  Groat  Britain,  &c.  Seven  miles  above  Cliathiiin  tho 
Mirimaehi  divides  into  two  branches,  one  runninj;  s-ontiiwest  and 
tlic  otber  northwest.  The  soutliwest  braneh  of  tlio  river  con- 
tains more  water  tliun  the  River  Thames  from  London  upward. 
The  sea-coast  of  Mirimachi  is  low,  but  inhand  the  country  rises 
in  some  places,  consisting  of  extensive  and  rich  iutervaies,  in  oth- 
ers of  a  rufrged,  rocky  territory." 

This  river  is  particularly  prominent,  in  the  history  of  New 
Brunswick,  for  the  astonishing  amoiuit  of  ton  timher  whidi  was 
formerly  procured  from  the  territory  bordering  it,  and  as  the  scene 
of  a  bloody  and  protracted  riot  on  the  part  of  the  Irish  population, 
chiefly  emigrants,  who  rose  en  masse,  and  attempted  to  drive  the 
Americans,  who  had  (locked  there  in  large  numbers,  from  tho 
country.  Desperate  encounters  took  place  from  time  to  time  be- 
tween small  parties,  but  the  Americans  maintained  their  ground 
against  fearful  odds,  and  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  months  quiet 
and  order  again  prevailed.  But  in  a  more  particular  and  im- 
pressive sense  will  the  Mirimachi  be  remembered  as  the  scene 
of  one  of  the  "  most  terrible  natural  conflagrations  of  which  we 
have  any  record  in  the  history  of  the  world."  The  annexed  ac- 
count*' will  be  found  deeply  interesting. 

"  The  person  who  has  never  been  out  of  Europe,"  and,  wc  may 
add,  out  of  071  r  cities  and  older  portions  of  country  in  the  States, 
"  can  have  little  conception  of  the  fury  and  rapidity  with  wliieh 
fires  rage  after  a  continuation  of  hot  seasons  in  North  America 
and  New  Holland,  when  the  dry  underwood  and  fallen  leaves, 
in  addition  to  the  resinous  quality  of  the  timber,  aflbrd  combust- 
ible materials  in  the  greatest  abundance,  I  have  seen  the  side 
of  a  mountain  thirty  miles  long  burning  in  New  Holland,  and 
illiunining  the  sky  lor  many  miles  ;  but  the  following  description 

*  History  of  Nova  Scotia  and  New  Bruuswiuk. 


RIVER    MFR. 


2r)3 


ly  loud  with 

Miutliiini  llio 

ulhwc'st  aud 

1 
i 

10  rivor  coii- 

f 

ilou  uiiwanl. 

comitry  rises 

•i 

vralcs,  ill  oth- 

," 

tory  of  New 

1 

r  \vhi<-li  was 

i 

t  as  the  scene 

{ 

h  popnlalion, 

J 

I  to  drive  tiie 

1 

1 

jrs,  i'rom  the 

le  to  time  bc- 

their  ground 

', 

mouths  quiet 

■; 

ular  and  ini- 

as  the  scene 

of  which  wo 

\ 

annexed  ac- 

and,  WG  may 

n  the  States, 

-} 

y  with  which 

nlh  America 

faUen  leaves, 

brd  comhust- 

seen  the  side 

Holland,  and 

g  description 

« 

1 
1 

Ly  an  eye-witness  (Mr.  Coouy),  of  the  great  Miiimaclii  lire,  ex- 
ceeds any  thinp  of  the  kind  that  ever  occurred." 

"The  summer  of  ih'23  was  unusually  warm  in  both  hemis- 
pheres, particularly  in  America,  where  its  clieetii  were  fatally 
visible  in  the  prevalence  of  ej)idemical  disorders.  During  July 
and  A  ufrust,  extensive  fires  riig»'<l  in  dilh-rent  parts  of  Nova  Sco- 
tia, especially  in  the  eastern  (li\  i.sion  of  the  penin.^iila.  The  pro- 
tracted drought  of  the^  suuuner,  acting  upon  the  aridity  <tf  the 
forests,  had  rendered  them  more  than  naturally  combustible  ;  and 
this,  facilitating  both  the  dispersion  and  the  progress  of  tho  lires 
that  a])peared  in  the  early  part  of  the  season,  produced  an  un- 
usual warmth.  On  the  Gth  of  October,  the  fire  was  evidently 
approaching  New  Castle  ;  at  dilierent  intervals  lllful  blazes  and 
flashes  were  observed  to  issue  from  dilierent  parts  (jf  the  woods, 
particularly  up  the  northwest,  at  the  rear  of  New  Castle,  in  tho 
vicinity  of  Douglasstown  and  Moorlields,  and  along  the  banks  of 
the  Bartibog.  Many  persons  heard  the  crackling  of  falhng  trees 
and  shriveled  branches,  while  a  hoarse,  rumbling  noise,  not  dis 
similar  to  the  roaring  of  di.stant  thunder,  anil  divided  by  pauses 
like  the  intermittent  discharges  of  artillery,  was  distinct  and  au 
dible.  On  the  7th  of  October  the  heat  increased  to  such  a  do 
gree,  and  became  so  very  oppressive,  that  many  com})lained  of 
its  enervating  eflects.  About  twelve  o'clock,  a  pale,  sickly  mist, 
lightly  tinged  with  purple,  emerged  from  the  forest  and  settled 
over  it. 

•'  This  cloud  soon  retreated  before  a  large  dark  one,  which, 
occupying  its  place,  wrapped  the  firmament  in  a  i)all  of  vapor. 
This  encumbrance  retaining  its  position  till  about  three  o'clock, 
the  heat  became  tormcntingly  sultry.  There  was  not  a  breath  of 
air  ;  the  atmosphere  was  overloaded  ;  and  irresistible  lassitude 
seized  the  people.  A  stupefying  dullness  seemed  to  pervade  every 
place  but  the  woods,  which  now  trembled,  and  rustled,  and  shook 
with  an  incessant  and  thrilling  noise  of  explosions,  rapidly  fol- 


! 


1 

;               1 

1 
.             1 

1 
I- 

i 

' 

1 

254 


RIVER    LIFE. 


lowing  each  other,  and  mingling  their  reports  with  a  discordant 
variety  of  loud  and  boisterous  sounds.  At  this  time  the  whole 
country  appeared  to  be  encircled  by  o,  fiery  zone,  which,  gradu- 
ally contracting  its  circle  by  the  devastation  it  had  made,  seemed 
as  if  it  would  not  converge  into  a  point  while  any  thing  remained 
to  be  destroyed.  A  little  after  four  o'clock,  an  immense  pillar 
of  smoke  rose,  in  a  vertical  direction,  at  some  distance  northwest 
of  New  Castle  for  a  while,  and  the  sky  was  absolutely  blackened 
by  this  huge  cloud  ;  but  a  light  northerly  breeze  springing  up, 
it  gradually  distended,  and  then  dissipated  into  a  variety  of  shape- 
less mists.  About  an  hour  after,  or  probably  at  half  past  five, 
innumerable  large  spires  of  smoke,  issuing  from  different  parts  of 
the  woods,  and  illuminated  by  flames  that  seemed  to  pierce  them, 
mounted  the  sky.  A  heavy  and  suffocating  canopy,  extending  to 
the  utmost  verge  of  observation,  and  appearing  more  terrific  by 
the  vivid  flashes  and  blazes  that  darted  irregularly  through  it, 
now  hung  over  New  Castle  and  Douglass  in  threatening  suspen- 
sion, while  showers  of  flaming  brands,  calcined  leaves,  ashes,  and 
cinders  seemed  to  scream  through  the  growling  noise  that  pre- 
vailed in  the  woods.  About  nine  o'clock  (P.M.),  or  shortly  after, 
a  succession  of  loud  and  appalling  roars  thundered  through  the  for- 
ests. Peal  after  peal,  crash  after  crash,  announced  the  sentence 
of  destruction.  Ever}'  succeeding  shock  created  fresh  alarm ; 
every  clap  came  loaded  with  its  own  destructive  energy.  With 
greedy  rapidity  did  the  flames  advance  to  the  devoted  scene  of 
their  ministry  ;  nothing  could  impede  their  progress.  They  re- 
moved every  obstacle  by  the  desolation  they  occasioned,  and  sev- 
eral hnndred  miles  of  prostrate  forests  and  smitten  woods  marked 
their  devastating  way. 

The  river,  tortured  into  violence  by  the  hurricane,  foamed  with 
rage,  and  flung  its  boiling  spray  upon  the  land.  The  thunder 
pealed  along  the  vault  of  heaven — the  lightning  appeared  to 
rend  the  firmament.      For  a  moment  all  was  still,  and  a  deep 


nivnu  LIFE. 


27)5 


a  discordant 
ne  the  whole 
.vhich,  gradii- 
made,  seemed 
ling  remained 
imensc  pillar 
ice  northwest 
ely  blackened 
springing  up, 
riety  of  shape- 
lalt'  past  five, 
erent  parts  of 
3  pierce  them, 
J,  extending  to 
lore  terrific  by 
:ly  through  it, 
;ening  suspen- 
res,  ashes,  and 
loise  that  pre- 
r  shortly  after, 
irough  the  for- 
the  sentence 
fresh  alarm ; 
nergy.     With 
oted  scene  of 
iss.     They  re- 
oned,  and  sev- 
woods  marked 

;,  foamed  with 
The  thunder 
appeared  to 
1,  and  a  deep 


and  awful  silence  reigned  over  every  thing.  All  nature  appear- 
ed to  be  hushed,  when  suddenly  a  lengthened  and  sullen  roar  came 
booming  through  the  forests,  driving  a  thousand  massive  and  de- 
vouring flames  before  it.  Then  New  Castle  and  Douglasstown, 
and  the  whole  northern  side  of  tlie  river,  extending  from  Barti- 
bog  to  the  Naashwaak,  a  distance  of  more  than  one  hundred 
miles  in  length,  became  enveloped  in  an  immense  sheet  of  (lame, 
that  spread  over  nearly  six  thousand  square  miles!  That  tlie 
stranger  may  form  a  faint  idea  of  the  desolation  and  misery  which 
no  pen  can  describe,  he  must  picture  to  himself  a  large  and  rapid 
river,  thickly  settled  for  one  hundred  miles  or  more  on  both  sides 
of  it.  He  must  also  fancy  four  thriving  towns,  two  on  each  side 
of  this  river,  and  then  reflect  that  these  towns  and  settlements 
were  all  composed  of  wooden  houses,  stores,  stables,  and  barns  ; 
that  these  barns  and  stables  were  filled  with  crops,  and  that  the 
arrival  of  the  fall  importations  had  stocked  the  warehouses  and 
stores  with  spirits,  powder,  and  a  variety  of  combustible  articles, 
as  well  as  with  the  necessary  supplies  for  the  approaching  winter. 
He  nnist  then  remember  that  the  cultivated  or  settled  part  of 
the  river  is  but  a  long,  narrow  strip,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
wide,  lying  between  the  river  and  almost  interminable  forests, 
stretching  along  the  very  edge  of  its  precincts  and  all  around  it. 
Extending  his  concej)tion,  he  will  see  the  forests  thickly  expand- 
ing over  more  than  six  thousand  square  miles,  and  absolutely 
parched  into  tinder  by  the  protracted  heat  of  a  long  summer. 

"  Let  him  then  animate  the  picture  by  scattering  countless 
tribes  of  wild  animals,  and  hundreds  of  domestic  ones,  and  even 
thousands  of  men  in  the  interior.  Having  done  all  this,  he  will 
have  before  him  a  feeble  outline  of  the  extent,  features,  and 
general  circumstances  of  the  country  which,  in  the  course  of  a 
few  hours,  was  suddenly  enveloped  in  fire.  A  more  ghastly  or 
a  more  revolting  picture  of  human  misery  can  not  well  be  im- 
agined. 


t  Jl 


250 


KIVEli    LITE. 


;   H 


'  '1 


IM 


;  t; 


"The  whole  district  of  cultivated  Iniid  was  shrouded  in  the 
agonizing  memorials  of  some  dreadful  deforming  havoc.  The 
songs  of  gladness  that  formerly  resounded  through  it  were  no 
longer  heard,  for  the  voice  of  misery  had  hushed  them.  Noth- 
ing broke  upon  the  ear  but  the  accents  of  distress  ;  the  eye  saw 
nothing  but  ruin,  and  desolation,  and  death.  Nev\-  Castle,  yester- 
day a  ilourishing  town,  full  of  trade  and  spirit,  and  containing 
nearly  one  thousand  inhabitants,  was  now  a  heap  of  smoking 
ruins  ;  and  Douglasstown,  nearly  one  third  of  its  size,  was  reduced 
to  the  same  miserable  condition.  Of  the  two  hundred  and  sixty 
houses  and  store-houses  that  composed  the  former,  but  twelve  re- 
mained ;  and  of  the  seventy  that  comprised  the  latter,  but  six 
were  left.  The  confusion  on  board  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  large 
vessels,  then  lying  in  the  Mirimachi,  and  exposed  to  imminent 
danger,  was  terrible — some  burned  to  the  water's  edge,  others 
burning,  and  the  remainder  occasionally  on  fire. 

"  Dispersed  groups  of  half-famished,  half-naked,  and  houseless 
creatures,  all  more  or  less  injured  in  their  persons,  many  lament- 
ing the  loss  of  some  property,  or  children,  or  relations  and  friends, 
were  wandering  through  the  country.  Of  the  human  bodies,  some 
were  seen  with  their  bowels  protruding,  others  with  the  flesh  all 
consumed,  and  the  blackened  skeletons  smoking;  some  with  head- 
less trunks  and  severed  extremities ;  some  bodies  burned  to  cin- 
ders, others  reduced  to  ashes  ;  many  bloated  and  swollen  by  suf- 
focation, and  several  lying  in  the  last  distorted  position  of  con- 
vulsing torture  ;  brief  and  violent  was  their  passage  from  life  to 
death,  and  rude  and  melancholy  was  their  sepulcher — '  unknelled, 
uncoffined,  and  miknown.'  The  immediate  loss  of  life  was  up- 
ward of  five  hundred  beings  !  Thousands  of  wild  beasts,  too, 
had  perished  in  the  woods,  and  from  their  putrescent  carcasses 
issued  streams  of  clTluvium  and  stench  that  formed  contagious 
domes  over  the  dismantled  settlements.  Domestic  animals  of  all 
kinds  lay  dead  and  dying  in  different  parts  of  the  country.     Myr- 


I 


i 


RIVER    LIFE. 


257 


.udcd  ill  the 
lavoc.     The 

it  were  uo 
lem.     Noth- 
the  eye  saW 
lastlc,  ycster- 
Ld  containing 
p  of  smoking 
,  was  reduced 
red  and  sixty 
,ut  twelve  re- 
attcr,  but  six 
and  liily  large 

to  imminent 
s  edge,  others 

and  houseless 
many  lament- 
iis  and  friends, 
,n  bodies,  some 
1  the  flesh  all 
)me  with  head- 
burned  to  cin- 
wollen  by  suf- 
osition  of  con- 
ge from  life  to 
r — '  unknelled, 
of  life  was  up- 
ild  beasts,  too, 
scent  carcasses 
ned  contagious 
animals  of  all 
jountry.     Myr- 


iads of  salmon,  trout,  bass,  and  other  fish,  which,  poisoned  by 
the  alkali  formed  by  the  ashes  precipitated  into  the  river,  new 
lay  dead  or  floundering  and  gasping  on  the  scorched  shores  and 
beaches,  and  the  countless  variety  of  wild  fowl  and  reptiles  shared 
a  similar  fate." 

Such  was  the  violence  of  the  hurricane,  that  large  bodies  of 
ignited  timber,  and  portions  of  the  trunks  of  trees,  and  severed 
limbs,  and  also  parts  of  flaming  buildings,  shingles,  boards,  &c., 
were  hurried  along  through  the  frowning  heavens  with  terrible 
velocity,  outstripping  the  fleetest  horses,  spreading  destruction  far 
in  the  advance,  thus  cutting  oil'  retreat.  The  shrieks  of  the  af- 
frighted inhabitants  mingling  with  the  discordant  bellowing  of 
cattle,  the  neighing  of  horses,  the  howling  of  dogs,  and  the  strange 
notes  of  distress  and  fright  from  other  domestic  animals,  strange- 
ly blending  with  the  roar  of  the  flames  and  the  thunder  of  the 
tornado,  ^  i^gars  description. 

Their  only  means  of  safety  was  the  r" ,  2r,  to  which  there 
was  a  simultaneous  rush,  seizing  whatever  \/as  buoyant,  howev- 
er inadequate ;  many  attempted  to  effect  a  crossing  ;  some  suc- 
ceeded; others  failed,  and  were  drowned.  One  woman  actually 
seized  an  ox  by  the  tail  just  as  he  plunged  into  the  river,  and 
was  safely  towed  to  the  opposite  shore.  Those  who  were  unable 
to  make  their  escape  across  plunged  into  the  water  to  their  necks, 
and,  by  a  constant  application  of  water  to  the  head  while  in  this 
submerged  condition,  escaped  the  dreadful  burning.  In  some 
portions  of  the  country  the  cattle  were  nearly  all  destroyed. 
"Whole  crews  of  men,  camping  in  the  interior,  and  engaged  in 
timber-making,  were  consumed. 

Such  was  the  awful  conflagration  of  1825  on  the  Mirimachi. 

This  event,  of  course,  put  a  great  check  upon  the  lumbering 
operations  of  that  section  ;  but  smcc  that  period,  the  places  named, 
"  pliojnix-like,  have  risen  from  their  ashes  liner  towns  than  they 
were  before  t)ie  period  of  that  terrific  conflugratiou."     Hundreds 


II 


^1 


258 


RTVER    LIPF5. 


of  shipping  annually  load  with  lumber,  which  is  exported  to  the 
mother  country. 

The  next  considerable  river  in  this  region  is  the  Ristigouche, 
larger  than  the  Miriinachi,  "  two  hundred  and  twenty  miles  long." 
'  The  entrance  to  this  river  is  about  three  miles  wide,  formed  by 
two  high  promontories  of  red  sandstone."  *'  For  eighteen  miles 
up  this  river,  one  continuous,  safe,  and  commodious  haibor  for  the 
largest  class  of  ships  is  found."  "  Two  hundred  miles  from  its 
embouchure,  whither  the  tide  flows,  it  is  upward  of  a  mile  wide  ; 
and  from  thence  to  within  forty  miles  of  its  source  it  is  navigable 
for  barges  and  canoes."  "  The  appearance  of  the  country"  on 
this  river  "  is  exceedingly  grand  and  impressive  ;  wherever  the 
eye  wanders,  nothing  is  to  be  seen  but  an  immeasurable  disper- 
sion of  gigantic  hills,  with  an  infinite  number  of  lakes  and  streams, 
glens  and  valleys.  Some  of  the  mountains  are  clothed  with  the 
tall  and  beautiful  Pine  ;  others  sustain  a  fine  growth  of  hard 
wood ;  many  have  swampy  summits,  and  several  terminate  in 
rich  meadows  and  plains ;  in  form  some  are  conical,  others  exhibit 
considerable  rotundity,  many  lank  and  attenuated,  and  iiot  a  few 
of  most  grotesque  shapes.  Sometimes  the  precipitous  banks  of  the 
river  are  three  hundred  feet  above  its  bed.  Seventy  miles  from 
the  sea  the  countr}^  becomes  comparatively  levci,  and  all  the  way 
to  the  head  of  the  Ristigouche  is  a  fine,  bold,  open  territory,  con- 
sisting of  a  rich  upland,  skirted  with  large  tracks  of  intervale, 
and  '"overed  with  a  dense  and  umiolatcd  growth  of  mixed  wood, 
in  which  large  groves  of  Pine  are  very  conspicuous."  On  this 
river  the  Pine  is  said  to  be  of  a  very  superior  quality. 

Other  livers  might  be  named  of  no  ordinary  interest  and  ca- 
pacity. 

The  following  table  gives  an  account  of  the  lumbering  mstall- 
ments  and  products  of  New  Brunswick,  as  taken  from  the  "  His- 
tory of  Nova  Scotia,  Cape  Breton,"  &c.,  &c. : 


ported  to  the 

Ristigouche, 
y  miles  long." 
do,  formed  by 
iffhteen  miles 
haibor  for  the 
miles  from  its 
i"  a  mile  wide  ; 
it  is  navigable 
e  country"  on 
wherever  the 
iurable  disper- 
s  and  streams, 
)thed  with  the 
rowth  of  hard 
terminate  in 
,  others  exhibit 
and  xiot  a  few 
us  banks  of  the 
nty  miles  from 
Lnd  all  the  way 
L  territory,  con- 
s  of  intervale, 
af  mixed  wood, 
ms."     On  this 
ity. 
iiterest  and  ca- 


RIVER    LIFE. 


259 


COUNTIES. 

1! 
II 

Estimatfd  value  of 
nil    inillH,    jiii-liiilini; 
all    irnproviMnentN  ; 
Vi7..,  privile";e,  nlv, 
sliinHH,  l:itul,  ilains, 
atul  piers. 

E'timatPil  f|iiantit.\ 
1)1  Iwiiiher  unwed  at 
Ilie  mills  during  the 
year. 

Estimated  value  nf 
lunilier  when  saw 
eil    and    earned    to 
places  of  shipment. 

Niirnlier  of  men 
employed  in  log- 
giiip,        sawing, 
and  liringing  to 
places  (1?  Dliip- 
iiient. 

St.  .John's 

King's 

Gloucester 

Westmoreland  . 

Kent 

Northumberland 

Sudbury  

Queen's 

Charlotte 

York 

29 

30 

7 

53 

10 

15 

7 

6 

42 

29 

£. 

31,700 

14.800 

15,500 

18,530 

6,950 

44.350 

8,500 

9.200 

64.500 

18.000 

Keet. 

11,305.000 
3,905.p00 
2,920,000 
8,805,000 
2,650,000 

15,600.000 
4,500,000 
6,200,000 

38.955.000 
9,000.000 

28/262 

9,785 

6.050 

22.012 

6,. 57  5 

39,800 

11,250 

15,.500 

99,475 

22,500 

320 
287 
105 
324 
84 
800 
103 
118 
1,357 
300 

Grand  Total 

228  j     232,030 

103,810.000  1      261,210 

3,792 

To  this  amount  r*'  manufactured  lumber  may  be  added  about 
two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  tons  of  square  timber  ;  this  is 
not  far  from  the  annual  amount  manufactured  in  this  province. 
Four  dollars  per  ton  is  about  a  medium  price ;  this  gives  a  prod- 
uct of  $1,000,000.  To  this  we  may  add,  as  the  product  of 
masts,  staves,  shingles,  per  annum,  $20,000.* 

Grard  total  of  the  lumbering  produce  in  dollars,  reckoning  four 
dollars  to  the  pound  : 

Long  lumber $1,041,840 

Square  timber 1,000,000 

Other  lumber  as  above 20,000 

$2,001,840. 

*  Havnig  no  data  upon  which  to  form  an  estimate  of  the  amount  of  these 
products,  we  simply  give  this  result  as  problematical.  It  probably  fall* 
short  very  far  of  the  true  annual  value. 


nbering  mstall- 
from  the  "  His- 


THE  END. 


I 


